in the sea
by fiesa
Summary: A child abandoned on a desert planet is picked up by a Jedi Master. Luke, Mara, Leia, Han, others. AU. (About orphans and twins, parents and children, about beginnings and endings and redemption. In short, about family – and crazy clones, lost documents and the completely unnecessary romance everybody has not been waiting for.) Complete in six chapters.
1. Prologue - The Orphan

**in the sea**

 _Summary: A child abandoned on a desert planet is picked up by a Jedi Master. Luke, Mara, Leia, Han, others. AU. (About orphans and twins, parents and children, about beginnings and endings_ _and redemption. In short, about family – and crazy clones, lost documents and the completely unnecessary romance everybody has not been waiting for.) Complete in six chapters._

 _Warning: AU. Can't say that often enough, I guess._

 _Set: story-unrelated._

 _Disclaimer: Standards apply. Also, regarding Jakku – I'm so sorry! I just couldn't help it… (insert grinning, (not-)guilty-looking smiley.)_

* * *

 **Prologue/The Orphan**

The Dune Sea was magnificent.

Golden, endless sand. Hot sun. Dunes that seemed to shift whenever the eye was not on them, and that seemed unmovable like rock when looking at them straight. The air was hot and dry, difficult to breathe in and painfully familiar. The barren plain was desolate, burnt and endless, and yet she knew it held _more_. Life simply was that way: small oases hidden in the depth of dead land like miracles. And the Force was everywhere around her.

Mara had not asked why they had come to Tatooine.

It was strange: she never had held back her questions before. As her master had never tired of teasing, for a wild child picked up on a planet more backwater than any backwater planet could dream of being, Mara had had _a lot_ of questions. And she had voiced them without hesitation. Some of them, it seemed, nobody would ever be able to answer. Questions like who were her parents, or what her name was. Had she been given a name, at all? She could not remember anything from her past: neither her parents,nor where they had lived, or whom they had been. Sometimes she suspected they had been smugglers (or, really, even worse criminals) who had abandoned her when they could not be bothered with her anymore. Or perhaps they had been honest spacers (did something like that even exist?) who had been forced to leave her behind but had had every intention on coming back for her again. But really, who gave up his own kid just like that? And on a desert planet like Jakku, of all?

But this time she had not asked; simply followed.

Maybe she had lost her ability to ask questions in the past years; or she had simply misplaced it. Maybe it had been a part of growing up. So much she had lost, and now this part of her was missing, as well. Sometimes she could not recognize the face that looked at her from the mirror. She looked nothing like the person she had once been. _Change,_ a familiar voice whispered in her head. _Human beings are subject to change, Mara. People change. Hearts do, too._ _It is nothing to fear._ She pushed aside the voice almost violently. This was not the time.

Maybe, though, she had simply not asked because she had already known the answer.

Had known it all along.

The Dune Sea was beautiful.

It was dangerous, too.

* * *

The orphan's life began when she met a Jedi Master. Of course, she did not know he was a Jedi Master at the time she attempted to steal from him.

Desert planets were no easy places to live in. Not that the orphan had known that. She only knew that she was smaller, younger and weaker than all the other scavengers, and that she only was able to pick what they left as worthless. There was nothing much to make from the scraps the others left, so she had learned to fend for herself by picking pockets. Not always an easy task, given the fact that beings who came to Jakku either had lost everything already or had not much to begin with and, consequently, were weary of those like her. But she managed.

Somehow.

At first, she had not wanted to steal. Strange, that, despite having nobody to teach her she had her own pride, her own codex. She had no parents to teach her about justice and life, but somehow she learned either way. She hated stealing – even from the rich, even from the ones who deserved to have their pockets lightened by the small hands of beings that had nothing when they had too much and were so blind. But then, there were days she was close to starving, when the scavenged scraps she managed to find were worth close to nothing and the junk dealers laughed at her and refused to buy. Days when the combination of desert sun and hunger was so bad she just wanted to collapse in the shadows and never get up. On those days, she did not care much for her pride.

The day she met him was one of those days.

The man wore a robe of the color of the sand dunes, his hood pulled over his head. He looked like any other man trying to disappear in the masses of the lost that came to the junkyard that was called Niima Outpost. At first glance, he was nothing much. But his gait was different – slow, thoughtful, and, at the same time, full of paradoxical energy. He moved like someone who knew he had to conceal himself and managed to do so, but who could not, for whatever reason, lower his head enough to seem like the jaded man he tried to incorporate. It was, she thought, either because he was too arrogant to stoop low enough to pretend being a lesser man than he was. Or, the other possibility: he had been less once, a scavenger, perhaps, and never again wanted to be. Not that many would have noticed. His shoulders were stooped, but to the orphan, he looked neither old nor bent. His attention was turned to the front, persistently, and still she had the strange sensation that he was watching his surroundings carefully. On any other day, she would not have come near him. Her instincts were infallible when it came to other beings, and something about this man scared her. But she was so hungry her head was spinning, and, afraid to miss the only opportunity available to her, she moved. It was a mistake.

The mistake saved her life.

Lightning-quick, the man grabbed the little spunk that had attempted to pickpocket him on the only settlement on the planet that was in possession of official grid coordinates. Jakku was one of those planets in the Western Reaches of the Inner Rim that were officially mapped but, due to its overall disconnection from the holonet, was a pitfall for beings – and things – that had been lost and or did not want to be found. Of course, the orphan did not know about that, as little as she knew the man she was trying to steal from had come for exactly that reason. She was fast, despite her tiny stature, her scrawny limbs and her bone-gnawing hunger. The stranger was faster. He moved like lightning, caught her hand in his with barely concealed strength, and she panicked. She had stolen from fast, strong men before, but usually they did not notice her until it was too late. Although she had made herself small and uninteresting, this man had caught her, and she froze for a heartbeat under the scrutiny of eyes hidden under the shadows of the sand-colored hood. The hand around her wrist was strong and relentless. After her first second of frozen fear, she started trashing and fighting but pulling her hand back was impossible. She was terrified, feeling the man's mind focus on her with the sharpness of a desert falcon. The trusty, old staff she could not remember not being with her came up in a much-practiced move, weaving a pattern that, with most beings, would have ended with a painful hit between said person's legs, the place most people were vulnerable, but the man simply caught it with his other hand and took it from her as if she was nothing. Screaming in fury – and knowing nobody would care, not here, not when it was clear what she was and what had happened – she bit and scratched and scratched and bit the man, but he only held her at arm's length, looking down at her. And then she tried to _push_ him, the way she had sometimes done with the bullies that were determined to make her life a living hell. Other than the bullies, though, the man did not stumble back; propelled by some kind of invisible force. He did not even budge when others had dropped in surprise, and the girl's stunned mind careened to a screeching halt. Suddenly, she was frozen, immovable, and could only glare at him.

"Well, well. A Force-sensitive child hidden away in a dead end of the galaxy. On a desert planet, of all."

The man felt amused. Wistful, too, and a little bit surprised. He let go of her hand.

"What is your name, child?"

The orphan did not stay to answer his question. The second he released her she bolted to her feet again, nimble like a gnaw-jaw, and ran.

She had not expected him to follow.

* * *

The orphan girl had no knowledge of space battles, of Empires lost and Rebellions successful.

She knew the worth of scavenged goods, and of things that were there and could be used no matter what their history. A broken-down machine was something she could try to sell. Sand-dusted metal scraps were something that might provide her with enough freeze-dried ration packs to feed her for a month, or only for a few days. Cannibalized, empty hulls of vehicles, whatever their purpose might have been once upon a time, were places to hide in – and abandoned places could be hide-outs for her.

The man recognized her home instantly as a broken-down, sand-drowned, Imperial AT-AT walker. To the orphan girl, it was her hideaway.

He came to her the first time the same day she tried to steal from him. If she had not been so hungry – so weak and desperate – she would have noticed him following her, and, if he, somehow, would have managed, she would not have stayed where she was. But again, hunger and something more overrode her instincts to bolt. He carefully deposited the rations – freeze-dried, too, but oh so different from the usual mush she knew! The girl watched the man's hands, worn and calloused, prepare the pulp in a bowl he somehow drew from the depths of his cloak, from the safe distance of her cave. Wary, suspicious, but the man made no attempt to move closer, did not even look at her. When he was finished, he divided the piece of bread he had brought, took a part and moved away into a safe distance where he sat, his back to her, and started chewing on the bread.

The girl watched him, suspicious.

But he did not move away, made no attempts to turn around and look at her. And her hunger was so great it overrode her instincts. She darted outside, grabbed the bowl and bolted back to safety. After reassuring herself that he still was far away, she scarfed down the food.

It was good.

She had it finished in a few minutes, and only then turned to look at him, suspicious. She caught him looking into her direction: there was a smile crinkling the skin around the corner of his eyes. He radiated warmth, and kindness. The girl could detect no threat in his presence, but she remained careful.

"Would you like some more?" He asked, holding up another bag. "But you have to eat slowly, otherwise you'll ruin your stomach."

She darted outside, drawn by the promise of the ration pack, and dropped the bowl where he had left it, then fled again.

Carefully, slowly, he stood up and prepared the food: calm, methodical. He left it again, seated himself in a safe distance. The girl picked up the food and ate, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. He was not old but not young, either, with dark, sand-colored hair and stubble on his cheeks. His eyes were blue like the sky over the desert. When he caught her looking, he smiled.

It was the first memory of the stranger she would keep in her heart forever: the way he smiled at her, calm and without any pretense. That, and that the food tasted good.

* * *

He came back the following day, and the day after that.

The girl made sure not to be there the whole time. It was still possible that he just wanted something from her. In her experience, everyone – the bullies, the junk-collectors, the resellers and the scavengers – wanted something from her. But her instincts, infallible when it came to danger, failed her this time. On the third day she woke up, feeling warm and cozy, in the middle of the freezing desert night, and realized she was lying under a thin blanket that, nevertheless, kept her warmer than anything she had ever possessed. He usually left her food, and, another time, some pieces of clothing to replace her dusty, torn and worn ones. He never moved too close to her, for which she was thankful. And he talked to her. First about little things – about her staff, and her work, and about things he had seen out in the desert that might come in handy for her. When he talked about a speeder, she listened, attentively, and came to the conclusion that he must have been a mechanic at some time in his life because he knew as much about mechanics as she knew, and plenty more. She had wanted to build her own trawler for some time now; the moons knew there were enough scrap parts around here, but she lacked the strength. It was interesting, listening to the man. He told her things, about deserts and space and people. It was interesting enough that she did not even notice when she began answering his careful questions.

* * *

Perhaps the greatest gift he could have made her, and the one thing, in retrospect, that finally made her trust him: he gave her a name.

But not at first.

* * *

First, on the sixth night, he told her about the Force.

About a mythical power all around her, in every plant and stone, in every living being. He told her about the people that were sensitive to its power, and how they could feel it – use it, even – almost by instinct. That there were people who trained others in the use of the Force. And that her instincts were part of the Force, too: that she was Force-sensitive, and would be able to use it even more if she agreed to be trained by a Jedi.

The Jedi.

She had heard of them, but they had been a myth, nothing more. Jedi did not come to Jakku.

"I am a Jedi Master," he told her, gently, and the wry smile playing around his lips she recognized as a mixture of regret and sadness. "Can you feel the Force around you? You could learn to use it. I could teach you, if you wanted. But I will not force you. There are many like you, whose potential is there but unharvested, and I will never try to change your mind about it."

She looked at him. "Will you take me with you?"

They had never spoken about it, but he would not remain on Jakku. It had been clear to her from the beginning.

"Yes, if you wish so. I could also bring you to a place where you could take a shuttle to Coruscant. We are few Jedi left, so any addition is welcome there."

"I…" She hesitated. "What if I wanted to go with you?"

"Then you would come with me, and I would teach you." Another one of his wry smiles. "I am sure some people would appreciate the irony."

She said nothing to that, torn. The scratches on the wall – many, so many of them – seemed to taunt her. He felt her hesitation, even if he did not know the reason for it.

"You do not have to decide right now. I will wait another three nights. Then, you can give me your answer. If you wish to remain on Jakku, I will also give you every help I can. I might not be here myself, but I have ways. You do not have to come with me in order to have a better life."

Her surprise was palpable.

"You are surprised," he told her, gently. "Don't be. You've been let down so many times. I promise, I won't do the same to you. I'm not perfect in any way, but I do keep my promises."

* * *

That night, she heard him talk for the first time.

He must have thought she was asleep, but she caught him whispering into the desert night. There was no other there than the two of them, she knew, but he was not talking to her.

"She does remind one of someone, doesn't she?"

The girl listened, holding her breath, but there was no answer. The man cocked his head, as if hearing something on the wind.

"It's only a little thing, but it's something I can do. I know you understand."

And then, as if he had felt her, tense and awake in the bunk at the other side of her cave, he turned around and looked at her. He was framed by moonlight, and she could not see his face. But it did not scare her.

"You are awake, little one? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. Sleep."

His voice was warm and soothing. The orphan girl buried herself in her pile of blankets again and, despite his promise, kept her eyes on him until she could not keep them open any longer. The man just sat there, leaning against the wall of her place, keeping watch. Maybe he continued his whispered conversation, maybe he did not. She did not know whom he was talking to, but, for the first time since she could remember, she felt safe.

The next day, she told him she wanted to go with him.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"You haven't even asked where I am heading to."

"Does it matter?"

He laughed; a warm, short sound she felt deep down in her stomach. "Not really, I suppose." And suddenly, he felt sad. She did not want him to feel sad.

"Wait here," she said and jumped up, storming into her home and tearing back. "Look."

At the sight of her treasure, he laughed in delight at the sight of the two round corpuses, the wheedling sound and the twinkling lights. "What a beautiful little one you are!"

"His name is BB-8," she said, proudly. "He's my friend."

The small robot beeped merrily.

"I am getting two copilots, then," the man said. "Artoo will be delighted. Will you tell me your name, little one?"

The orphan withdrew immediately, shrinking into herself. There were people who had called her. But none of the terms they had used were a name she wanted to keep, much less wanted the man to know. He must have read the truth from her face, or from her emotions. Or maybe he simply _knew_. Similar people reached out to each other, did they not?

It was not clear what he felt in regard to her nameless _ness_. He hid his emotions, and she was not yet able to read stray emotions, untrained as she was. Still, the mix of sadness and anger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What must your parents have thought-"

He caught himself when she flinched, again, and simply stared onto her dirty feet blindly, clutching BB-8 to her chest. The man took a deep breath, mumbling something into the collar of his sand-colored tunic. The air around them cleared, as quickly as it had become oppressing. He knelt down next to her.

"It's not your fault, you know?" He said, almost gently. "For whatever reason they left you here, it wasn't because of something you did, or something you are. Don't ever think that. Move forward, take small steps. Not everybody can be strong all the time. Everyone needs someone else sometimes. It does not make us weak. You will grow, both in body and in mind. You may choose your path, and I will help you as much as I can. Do you still want to come with me?"

She nodded, minutely, still staring onto her toes. Her nails were black with dirt.

"Then you will need a name. What should I call you?"

She thought about his question for a moment and then shrugged. She had never thought much about names. She had not needed one, since she had nobody to call her by it. Suddenly, though, risking a short glance at the sky-like eyes, she wanted one so much she felt like breaking.

The man was quiet for so long the orphan tore her eyes away from her feet and looked at him. He had his head cocked, as if listening to something she could not hear, and his gaze was far away.

"Mara," he said, abruptly. "What about Mara?"

Her gaze must have been questioning, because he grinned.

"It means "the bitter-sweet one" in the old dialects of a wandering tribe on a planet much like this one. But…"

"Okay," she interrupted him, her voice quiet.

The man paused. "…Okay? I thought you might-"

"No," the orphan said. "It's okay. I think… I like it."

For a second, the man looked bemused. "Well then, Mara it is, isn't it?" His hand touched her head, softly and purposefully. For the first time in her life, she did not want to bolt when someone was close to her.

"Mara," the man repeated. "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

Mara closed her eyes and felt the first drops of his kindness fill the emptiness within her.

* * *

What followed was a six-year-long mission to the Unknown Regions, which were mainly chartered but largely unexplored.

Master Skywalker's mission did not seem to be to explore the region; but then, his mission parameters were not exactly clear to Mara. She doubted they had included taking in a stray and training it in the ways of the Force. They travelled light years, back and forth, sometimes taking on and forwarding messages, sometimes searching for something else completely. In between their stops, her master trained her. The lessons were fun, though sometimes largely boring. Meditation was so especially. Her master only chuckled when she voiced her dislike.

"Suddenly I understand Obi-Wan's desperation."

"Who is Obi-Wan, Master?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi is the one who taught me everything I am teaching you now. He was one of the few Jedi Masters who survived the Order 66."

"Was he the one who exiled you, Master?"

Quick as lightning, his gaze turned inward, and Mara learned within heartbeats not to ask questions like that again if she did not want to see the distant expression of pain and guilt on his face.

"He did not want to exile me, but I told him to do so."

She could not ask further, and she did not need to know. She learned to distract him, instead, because his smile was so much better than his grief.

"So you did not like Meditation."

At that, he laughed. "No, not really."

"But?"

She knew there was a but. There always was.

"But it has to be taught and it has to be learned. Never let go the opportunity to learn something new, Mara, even if it is tedious. As a child, you might feel like some of the things you are forced to remember are useless. But as an adult, you can choose what you do from what you've been taught in the past. It will be your decision whether to use what you have learned, or to simply forget about it."

* * *

They travelled like that for what felt like eternity.

Mara did not mind. Living with Master Skywalker, training with him, learning – it was better than anything she could have imagined. She did not miss the dry sands of Jakku, or the scavenging, or anything. She learned to manipulate objects with her mind, instead, and to read the atmosphere from the subtle shifts of the Force. She learned the strengths and weaknesses of human minds, and how to influence them. She learned about Light and Dark. When she was fourteen, she built her own lightsaber, a violet blade, fast and lethal. But Mara's first love was the small blaster her master presented her with one day. She learned to use blasters and vibro-blades in the same way she learned to use the Force. Her master laughed, but he taught her, nevertheless, and found others to teach her if he did not know more.

"The Old Masters would have heart attacks seeing you," he said, one day, when Mara shot the glass of Corellian whiskey straight out of the hand of a man who was trying to fool them. And, at her obvious distress, he smiled. "Oh, no, don't worry. There is a new generation of Jedi coming, and you are one of them. It is only just that you are different, and I can imagine you won't be alone in that. The Old Order needed some fresh wind, anyway."

Somehow, the thought made her happy and sad in equal terms. Only later, she realized it had been her own happiness she had felt, but his grief.

* * *

Mara learned how to read her master's moods, and his instructions. She taught herself cooking, because he was abysmal at it, at best. She learned how to fly and how to navigate a ship, how to negotiate with honest and with dishonest space traders, how to treat other beings and how to bluff. She learned that her master liked his peace, but that he also enjoyed the loud, raucous atmospheres of seedy space ports and bars. She learned that he hated slavers, and thought smugglers honest people in their own rights. She learned that the Dark Side was nothing that scared him, and that he fought it fiercely, but not thoughtlessly. She learned that he always talked to the same person when he thought she was asleep, but he never mentioned a name. And she thought that she was not the only topic he talked about, in whispers and smiles, but she never knew who else was mentioned.

Still, there were many things she did not know about Anakin Skywalker.

One day, he returned from a "meeting", his clothes torn and plastered to his skin and soaked by water and his shoulders bent like the ones of an old man. He dropped something on the table – the Monolith, Mara recognized, the artefact they had searched for for such a long time – and almost collapsed into one of the two chairs in the small mess of their ship.

"Master, are those lightsaber burns?" Mara burst out, worried. "What in the name of everything that is holy did you do?"

"Took care of a little problem," her master said, cheerfully, but his façade dropped halfway and he closed his eyes, bone-tired. "If my sources are correct, that should have gotten rid of her once and for all."

Mara did not ask questions. She just got the first-aid pack and carefully cleaned and dressed his wounds. Then, she tiptoed from the room, wanting him to get some rest, but his voice stopped her halfway through.

"I think it's time to return to the Core Worlds."

Her heart sped up. She could not say whether it was fear or happiness she felt, so she focused on her breathing and calmed her thoughts.

"I will follow you, Master," she said, when she finally found her voice again. And made sure there was no doubt left whatsoever that she would follow him wherever he went, even if someone tried to stop her and even if he did not want her to. Because he was silly like that: if it was to protect her, she knew he would not hesitate to send her away.

Her reward was a chuckle. "To think that some people would call you _headstrong_. What an understatement."

He was up again after a night's rest, despite his injuries which would have needed a three-day healing trance, at least. Mara, having known him for six years then, did not wonder. She was also not surprised that, once the decision had been made, Anakin Skywalker began the preparations for their return with boundless enthusiasm. Suddenly, though, she did wonder about something else: was somebody waiting for him at the end of their journey? Was it the person he was talking to, sometimes, under the cover of darkness? Whom had he left behind? She expected it to be some friends, and his own master, perhaps. Maybe even a lover. Years spent in close quarters with him had taught her a lot about the man that had rescued her from Jakku, but some things still remained a mystery.

Never before had it mattered, but now, suddenly, she could not sleep with the vague fear of ignorance. But she did not ask. Instead, she resigned herself to whatever was to come.

So Mara wasn't really shocked when Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master and her teacher, took her back to the Core Worlds after a seven-year exile to the Unknown Regions and she learned that he had children.

Two, to be precise.

To be even more precise: twins.

Leia and Luke.

It did sound like straight from a clichéd holodrama.

(Not that she knew many.)

That way, Mara met the Skywalker twins for the first time.


	2. The Twins

**The Twins**

Mara met Leia first.

They were of the same age, but Mara was taller. She had the red hair and fair skin that had made her stand out so much on Jakku, and stormy, green eyes, a lithe figure and a body formed by Jedi training. Leia, on the other hand, had warm eyes the color of chocolate, long, honey-golden hair and the features of a royal princess. And she held herself like one. Where Mara's beauty – though she would have protested the use of the word when describing herself – was of a feral, wild sort, Leia's beauty was classical. She had been raised by Alderaan's Senator Bail Organa and his wife and was cheerful and diplomatic, as if she would be able to keep a neutral face even when confronted with the most hilarious joke. Underneath her polite exterior, however, Mara detected an almost steely determination fueled by a thirst for justice and peace – and a streak of mischievousness she could not believe she felt but that was there, unmistakably.

"It's so good to finally meet you! You are Mara, of course. I'm Leia Skywalker Organa. I have the feeling we are going to be best friends!"

Mara, overwhelmed by so many things, only managed to nod.

"You are strong very in the Force! I, on the other hand, prefer to best my opponents with words rather than with lightsabers," she told Mara cheerfully and without a hint of regret. "My adoptive father is happy to have someone follow in his footsteps. I've already been to Coruscant a few times: the New Republic is a bee hive! And I'm used to Alderaan. But you came here right from the Unknown Regions: how much worse must it be for you!"

"It takes some time getting used to."

She probably wouldn't have needed to say anything.

"Where will you be staying? At the Temple? Oh, let me show you the way there! I'll introduce you to Luke and all the others. There aren't many Jedi right now, so there's a lot of space. But the New Order is steadily growing. See, Dad found you even out there! I always wondered..."

Leia's flow of words was momentarily halted as her gaze turned inward. Mara looked up, worriedly, but the other girl brightened immediately.

"It's so great that you're finally here! Luke and I can show you around on Coruscant, and I always wanted to get to know you! If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask, okay?"

She gave one look at her companion and huffed a sweet laugh.

"And I'm going to stop talking now, you look like you've been overrun by a herd of banthas!"

Even though she usually was not the person to form friendships that easily – and that quickly – Mara knew that she and Leia Skywalker Organa would get along very well.

* * *

It was completely different with the other twin.

Like his sister, Luke Skywalker was more on the stocky than on the tall side. But he _was_ taller than Mara, which she noticed and disliked almost instantly. He had hair of the color of wheat, so much lighter than Leia's honey-gold, a sun-weathered tan that whispered of sand and heat and reminded her, unwillingly, of Jakku, and his father's sky-blue eyes. The fact that she saw the world she had been living on in another person's eyes – or, a world very similar to hers – was unsettling. Like her, he was a student close to being promoted to knighthood.

His attention landed on Leia and her the moment they entered the room, and Mara found herself challenged by a look that was part curiosity, part idle interest, part heart-warming love for his sister and part something unreadable for the stranger beside her. Leia laughed and returned the fervor with which he hugged her, and then smacked him in the arm when he attempted to muss her hair.

"Luke, this is Mara. Mara, my twin, Luke Skywalker."

He extended his hand, Mara shook it. Cool, calloused skin: lightsaber-trained. His mind brushed hers, carefully, retracted again when he felt her wall. _Practical_ , her own Force senses added. _Likes to tinker with things._

"I've heard about you." Mara squirmed, but he did not seem to notice. His Force presence returned, probing again. _Determined._ "Dad told us he trained you for the past six years." _Perceptive._

"He did," she returned, non-committal.

His grin, so unlike her master's small, melancholic smile, grew. "How is your lightsaber technique?"

 _Over-confident._

It probably was not even meant in a condescending way, but that was how she took it.

"Do you want to make your own picture of them?" She responded, bristling. "Fine by me."

He had the galls to chuckle. "Touchy, huh?" _So much like his father._ And yet... _Not._

Leia shot her brother a look.

"Luke, you can't challenge her to a duel when she only just arrived here-"

"No, Leia, it's fine with me."

It was.

More than fine, actually. That way, Mara's mind was squarely taken off the large halls of the Temple, the silent gardens they crossed and the whisper of the Force dancing around her, welcoming her like a friend when, in fact, Mara was a complete stranger. The training hall was a mix of ancient wooden floors, mirror-covered walls and modern sparring droids. Leia, resigned, positioned herself at the side, while Luke and Mara took up their places at the opposite ends of the square sparring area.

"Nice color," Luke commented as she ignited her lightsaber. His own blade was startlingly green.

His comment was not even worth an eye-rolling, so she just stood and waited until Leia gave the signal.

Luke indeed bested her when it came to lightsaber technique. Their fight was short and _just so_ short of brutal. They were far from being sword masters, far even from being close to full Jedi. Still, they fought with everything they had, and more than once Mara felt Leia wince and bite down on her lips as to not call out in worry. But Mara was not afraid. Over the characteristic hiss of their crossed blades, she saw his face: wide and open with joy. He loved sword-fighting, she realized. Yet he did not fight to protect himself but to protect others, as true Jedi should. He never crossed the line between a training spar and a brutal fight for dominance, but he still had her disarmed in embarrassingly few minutes.

Mara, however, had him flat on the mat in seven seconds short when they proceeded to weaponless sparring.

Leia's amazement was still ringing through the Force, mixing with Luke's stunned disbelief, when slow clapping broke the echoing silence.

"Dad!" Luke complained, but a bright smile was blossoming on his face. He jumped up, following Leia to enthusiastically hug the man that had appeared in the door.

Master Skywalker was grinning. "Well done, Mara. And you deserved that," he said to his son.

"Yes, I guess so," he said, unembarrassed, and turned back to Mara. "Congratulations," he said, his eyes grey-blue-grey. "I have to work harder. Would you grant me the pleasure of sparring with me again?"

He was making fun of her. Mara glowered at him, wordlessly.

Needless to say she liked one Skywalker twin more than the other. Mostly, when she saw his easy smile, she just wanted to punch him in the face to see it disappear.

* * *

It kind of went downhill from there.

Though, to be honest: there was so much she had to get used to that Luke Skywalker was one of the least things she worried about.

After their eventful seven-year – well, technically, it had been only six years for her – mission in the Unknown Regions, Mara now learned the difference between life on the civilized core worlds and traveling around the Unknown Regions. Master Skywalker and she had never stayed in one place more than a standard week. Remaining in one location was not as much a challenge as it was a shift in perception. Now, when she woke, it was to the absence of the hyperdrive's soft humming. The corridors of the Temple were not narrow and dim but high and light-filled, the food served in the mess hall showed a staggering range of variety (Master Skywalker's most horrendous concoction had been his first and last attempt at preparing Dust Crêpes, the mere thought of what he had done to the mess still made Mara both want to drop laughing and break out in terrified screams). The atmosphere did not smell arid, artificial or familiar but _different_ and the windows outside showed buildings and people rather than the endless, star-striped infinity of hyperspace.

And Coruscant.

During their travels Mara had seen larger villages than the trade outpost on Jakku, of course; but nothing had quite prepared her for the high-rise, glass-and-durasteel, towering apartment complexes of the central world. Everything around her was overpowering: the fragile-looking walkways crossing to and fro between the buildings, the blinking skylights and the number and variety of all possible and some more impossible species. The speed at which the skippers, hoppers, speeders and transporters whipped through the skylanes, the dusty, choking air, the darkness of the city's lower levels: it was a shock. Mara did not belong here: did not belong with the blinding lights that were never extinguished, the buildings made of sleek, beautiful lines of silver and grey, not with the colors that shifted and changed whenever she blinked. Coruscant was _suffocating_. Mara felt an overwhelming sensation of smallness that she did not like at all.

For the first time since she could remember, she thought back at the endless deserts she had known as a child.

But she learned to adapt. Places, surroundings – she took a good look at them, and determinedly made her own place in them. The Temple yielded, almost like it was welcoming her. Like it was taking her in. A few days into it and she no longer got lost in the corridors, found her way easily. The corridors and halls became familiar and comfortable. It was the people, however, not the places, that were Mara's greater problem. She was not used to so many of them everywhere. She had lived in the ruins of a battlefield on a desert planet until Master Skywalker had picked her up. And then she had traveled on the _Angel of Naboo_ with him, only the two of them, and there, too, she had fallen asleep and woken to the feeling of few people, and peace around her. This… _The Temple_ was different. Even if she was alone, she could feel the hum of Force signatures around her. There always was someone who was awake, or training, or just _thinking_. There had been no need to shut others out when there had been no others in her life. Even the short visits to the cities she and Master Skywalker had, for some reason or other, traveled to, had been finite: and she had been able to leave again in the evening, leaving behind the buzz of the market places and the noise of the unsaid words and unfelt _things_ all around her. She had been alone for so long she felt crowded knowing people were living in the rooms to the left and the right of hers, much less _feeling_ them.

Mara was fourteen years old, and she had never really lived with other people before.

But she was nothing but stubborn. Even her master had acknowledged that in her, and she refused to disappoint him. She got used to the rhythms and echoes the beings around her adhered to. The day at the Temple, for the students, started with a meditation session led by the eldest Jedi in the Temple. Master Kenobi had a face that was weathered and tanned, as if he had been living on a desert planet, as well, and a voice so warm and gentle he touched everyone's heart. Everyone respected him, that much was plain. Luke Skywalker seemed to outright adore him, and Mara wondered about it until she realized the old master had been the one to train the male Skywalker twin, just as he had been the one who had trained Master Skywalker. The first time she was introduced to the de-facto Grand Master of the New Order Mara was struck silent, barely daring to look him in the face. He waited until she, almost defiantly, lifted her eyes to meet his. His smile was kind and welcoming, and his words left her no room for awkwardness. Anyway. After meditation came breakfast, in the large, light-filled cafeteria of the Temple, along with the very few Masters and Jedi and more numerous students. The rest of the days were filled with different things: lessons, for example, like lightsaber training, or basic healing methods, or even just simple history and politics. The elder students were allowed to make small errand runs, or were allotted basic chores like gardening or cleaning and maintaining the technical equipment or even the Temple's shuttles and starfighters. It rarely was boring, also because no day was the same. Looking back, Mara found it hard to believe she had already been in the Temple for a year when a particularly short, grey spring turned to summer and the New Republic government's summer session began.

* * *

Senator Organa traveled to Coruscant for the senate meetings, and brought his adoptive daughter with him.

Leia descended on Mara like an angel with purpose-driven obstinacy. The young diplomat knew exactly which government sessions to avoid and which ones to attend. In the meantime, she was determined to spend as much time with her Jedi friend as possible. That was fine with Mara, mostly. She had not realized how much she had come to like Leia, and how much she had missed the presence of a girl her age during the past months. That was it, she thought: once one put one's heart on other people, it was hard going back to the way it had been before.

The strange thing was that she did not dislike the way her life had become.

The Skywalker twins were funny, intelligent and very, very thoughtful. They showed her the cenotaph for the young Jedi students that had been murdered in the Temple by Darth Sidious on the day of his ascendance to power. They showed her the never-sleeping streets, bridges and skyscrapers of Coruscant, and they spent days in the lower levels, exploring every side of the planet they could. Not everything they saw was pretty, but Mara was used to the sight of dilapidated buildings, hunger and poverty. To her surprise, the Skywalker twins were, too. Mara did not ask, but she followed their example of carrying around rations and other useful things when they left for their outings. Leia took her shopping, too, something Luke bowed out of with a grin. Neither one of the girls turned out to be a big fan of it, though. Both were equally surprised when they discovered they both loved reading, and then Leia took Mara to Coruscant's Grand Library. They spent hours in the great, silent halls, sitting at terminals side by side. Leia would tell her what she had read in the evening and Mara would listen, interested and glad to have found someone who did not mind that she didn't talk too much. Leia also did not seem to mind when she, reaching the end of her patience for the day, became somewhat snappish; something she really hated in herself but could not help. Her friend would simply smile and change the topic, continuing her sweet, insignificant chatter, or simply stop talking, bathing them in comfortable silence. Luke, on the other hand, would begin teasing her. He seemed to try to evaluate how long it would take and how much until she snapped at him, her patience splintering. She had no idea whether he was enjoying it or doing it merely for the purpose of annoying her.

Despite the almost tangible growth of the New Jedi Order, there were fewer people living in the Temple than there once had been. Among the students, Luke and Mara were the only ones of their age. Together with Leia, they formed a circle almost unconsciously.

They were strange, the Skywalker twins.

"I would introduce you to my friends," Leia said, once, apologetic. "But I grew up on Alderaan, you know. And Luke lived on Tatooine…" She shrugged, smiling her usual, bright and pretty smile. Her eyes went to her brother, who smiled back at her: his expression, when directed at Leia, was different. Deeper, less cheerful, more protective.

Full of love.

Sometimes, looking at them, Mara caught a glimpse of the past. It disappeared as fast as it had come and returned, now and then, whenever she would not expect it. It always showed her the same thing. Two worlds, one green and blue and lush, one arid and yellow as sand and dust. Two tiny children: loved, cherished, each with loving families, and yet – somehow lost. _Worlds apart._ They were cheerful, even happy, but somehow, the air around them was strangely lonely. Mara could see the golden threads woven between them: they were what connected them, despite distance and time. But they also set them apart from others. Both the children had a family and friends – and both knew they still were reaching out somehow, searching for the one thing they knew they had and yet could not have. So lonely. So guilty. So lost without each other, and without their father. Mara's heart could not help but go out towards the small Skywalker family, the twins who had known of each other their entire lives and had not been able to be together, but who loved each other more than anything. _Such precious, precious children_. Suddenly, all those times when she had felt her master stretching out his Force-presence far, far into the void beyond their starship's hull, the grief that sometimes followed these moments and the unbridled joy on other times, made a lot more sense.

Maybe that was why the Skywalkers seemed so tight, so close. Like a circle, three in one, unwilling to open for any outsider.

And yet they opened easily to take Mara in.

She could not fathom this. Were they not angry at her, for keeping their father to herself for such a long time? Did they not dislike her for having spent time with the man they had missed for great parts of their life? Would they not have given anything to be taught by him, protected by him, even chided by him, the way Mara had been? It had been one of Mara's greatest fears when she had learned she would get to know the Skywalker twins. She had expected them to be resentful of her, to hate her for what she had been granted and what they had been denied.

But they did not.

They simply did not dislike her. Mara, her senses keen in the Force, would have _known._

What the twins did, though, was trying to spend as much time with their father as possible. Mara could see that Leia loved her adoptive father, and that Luke still grieved his dead uncle and aunt on Tatooine. But that did not stop them from lighting up in a way that made her distinctly nervous when they saw Master Skywalker, or from smiling even more than usual in his presence. Apparently, they did not mind that Mara had spent more time than them with their father, and were merely determined to make good on that lost years.

Mara, to her utter horror, found that _she_ minded.

A tiny little bit. Or more, perhaps.

She had had her master to herself for such a long time, she argued, inwardly. She should not mind sharing him, especially not with his own children, who were her friends. But sometimes, she could not help feel a stab of resentment. It was worse with Luke than with Leia, and the fact that she had no answer for this particular paradox only served to make her feel even less inclined towards him.

Maybe it was because Leia lacked the deep connection to the Force both Master Skywalker and Luke had. Mara, whose Force abilities were beyond average, but certainly nothing extraordinary, felt the connection between father and son more keenly than the one between daughter and father. Leia could not compete with Mara for her master's attention, simply because there were things Master Skywalker could never teach Leia but had taught Mara. Luke Skywalker, on the other hand… He soaked up his father's presence and knowledge and Master Skywalker was visibly proud of him. He did not care less about Mara, and also did not put her aside for his son's sake. Rather the opposite: he tried to include her in lessons and training sessions in a way that Mara found herself interacting more and more with Luke.

Luke did not seem to mind. If anything, he did not mind _enough._

After their first disastrous sparring session, he had been definitely more careful when it came to challenges. It did not lessen his enthusiasm, however, and it definitely did not hurt his ego that she still managed to best him in hand-to-hand sparring. Even more: his cheerful acceptance of her superiority when it came to it grated on her nerves even worse than an annoyed, snappish reaction would have. Contrary to his father, thankfully, he was not able to read her emotions. It was a very, very small consolation on days when she was unable to hold back her resentment. On other days, she was so glad she could have wept.

Mara did not want to share her master with her master's son. And though she, rationally, recognized how utterly stupid and selfish it was, she could not help it.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why she disliked Luke: he made her dislike herself.

* * *

The twins, although they had spent large pieces of their lives apart, still were closer than any other people Mara had ever known. They also, very much to her horror, were an unstoppable force.

"Awwww, Dad!" Leia _fluttered her eyelashes._ Mara recoiled in horror at the sight. "Mara never saw something like the Intergalaxy Fair before!"

Master Skywalker frowned, but Mara could see that his daughter's puppy-eyes were already eroding his determination. This _never_ happened when Mara tried to persuade him of something. Force, it had taken her three _years_ until he had allowed her to build her own lightsaber!

"Aren't you too young to stay out that long?" _Especially you girls,_ his gaze seemed to say.

"I'm sixteen!" Leia spluttered. "Mara?"

"Don't know."

That halted the family argument momentarily as both Luke and Leia stared at her, lost for words.

"I don't really have parents that would celebrate with me," she said, feeling more uncomfortable than actually hurt. She had resigned herself to the fact that she knew next to nothing about her heritage a long time ago.

"We always celebrated Mara's birthday in March," Master Skywalker cut in, his calm gaze and his secret smile giving her strength. "On the beginning of spring on Naboo."

Leia's gaze was a mix of pity and sadness. Mara did not mind her pity. It was a warm thing, alive and soothing. Luke's, on the other hand, seemed to make fun of her.

"I'm fifteen," she said, straightening her shoulders and glaring at him.

"Well." Leia caught herself with the mental reflexes that were necessary in order to survive the political arena. "Luke's with us, anyway!"

Luke looked like he still wanted to say something regarding her birthday, but then he just closed his mouth again. It was just a tiny bit satisfying to Mara, and she felt petty for it immediately until she pushed everything aside in favor of the _actual_ argument.

"Mara?" Her master asked.

Leia had told her so much about the fair.

"I want to go, please," she said, beseeching him with her eyes only.

Master Skywalker dropped his gaze with an almost inaudible sigh and returned to his daughter's chosen battle ground. "Your brother," he said, enunciating clearly, "is the same age as you are."

Mara knew that of the twins, Leia actually had been the first to be delivered. From the look on her face, however, she knew the junior politician was knowingly withholding that fact, already launching into the next barrage of arguments, when–

"You never took Mara to see a fair, did you?" Luke asked, innocently enough, somehow managing to trump his sister's arguments with one sentence only.

Those two, Mara thought with increasing dread, were _guilt-tripping Master Skywalker._ Which, as she could safely say from her own experience, _never_ worked.

Except that it actually did.

"Dad, come on! We'll be back before midnight, promise. And Luke and Mara are Jedi!"

" _Not_ _quite_ yet-"

"Dad, don't worry! I'll take care of the girls."

For that comment – and for the grin he shot her – Mara wanted to dismember Luke Skywalker. Preferably slowly and painfully. The fact that their father – Mara's unyielding master! – sighed and rolled his eyes upset her entire world.

"Somehow that doesn't make me worry _less_ , son… Fine. You three go and have fun. But be back at eleven sharp. And, Leia-" He straightened, suddenly not longer the indulgent parent but Mara's very strict master – "If I hear that you've snuck off with that good-for-nothing Corellian kid again…"

The threat dangled in the air like a Force whip, crackling with static. Leia's face contorted, but with what looked like inhuman strength she brought it back under control.

"I won't, Dad," she said, sweetly. "I promise."

Master Skywalker did not look like he believed her. He was not even completely out of the door that Leia, under the table, gave her twin a kick that had Luke flinch in pain. The accompanying smile, however, was sweet as spring.

"And how, pray tell, would Dad know about Han?"

"He asked me, and you know I don't lie," Luke answered, grinning from ear to ear. "You see, the Jedi Codex…"

Leia shot back a few swear words Mara was pretty sure she had _not_ learned in Alderaan's senate chamber, or in Coruscant's, for that matter. Luke's only answer was to grin even wider. His twin kicked his shin a second time, _hard,_ and he crumbled.

"So, we're leaving at oh-six hundred." Leia emerged from the argument with her brother like a victorious queen. "Be sure to be ready. Han will meet us at the plaza." She shot her twin a haughty look. "I'm _not_ sneaking off. He's _accompanying_ us. I'm so glad we're going, Mara, I really want you to meet Han! It'll be the four of us, more security than ever and half of Coruscant's general population. What could possibly go wrong?"

Yes, what _could_ possibly go wrong? Mara sighed inwardly. It was going to be a long day.

But, as usual when the twins – or, Leia, at least – were concerned, the evening did not turn out to be so bad. The plazas, archways and bridges the fair was held on were bursting with sound, color, light and scent. It was difficult to decide where to look due to the sheer mass of things that were there to see. Leia introduced Mara to a tall, lanky teenager – perhaps three years older than her – with a head full of messy, dark-blond hair and a grin that was terribly crooked. It did not make him look worse, though. Mara could see where Leia's fascination came from. Though they seemed to be arguing the entire way, one could see that they went together well. Probably everybody could see, except for the two of them.

"Mara." At the hand that appeared in front of her, dangling something in front of her face, she opened her hand automatically. Luke dropped something into it. It was a small bracelet, silverwork with little inlaid pearls that looked like tears. It was pretty, and-

"I don't need it," Mara said, immediately, thrusting it back in his direction. She did not want any gift from him. But he had already turned to his sister.

"How pretty!" Leia admired the jewelry. "Thanks, Luke." She kissed his cheek.

Han shot his friend a scathing look and Luke shrugged, cheerfully. It was too late to protest, so she pocketed the small bracelet and resolved never to think about it again. Solo dragged them over to a shooting range. Next came the food stalls. They ate until none of them – not even Solo, who seemed to be a veritable glutton – was able to stomach anything else.

"Let's rent a speeder and go home," Leia moaned. "I can't move."

Since her suggestion was sound, they followed suit. The light and the sound of the festival swirled around them like living ghosts and Mara caught herself laughing along with the Skywalker twins and Solo, watching the latter playfully tug at Leia's hair, following Leia's and Luke's banter. It was a world of their own, just the four of them.

And then, something punched through the bubble of peacefulness with the force of a blaster shot.

Both Luke and Mara sat up straight, straining their perception into the Force. Leia reacted less fast, but no less intense. Han was left to stare at them – which was just as well, since he was piloting the rental speeder.

"What is it?"

Suddenly, the sensation of worry turned to danger. The Force screamed in panicked alarm.

"There's a party down there," Luke observed, leaning over the edge of the open vehicle. The rooftop gardens were ten meters below them, brightly lit and full of people. A bar and an open dance floor were clearly visible.

"Someone's about to crash it?" Han guessed and followed Luke's pointing finger. He did a double-take that made the speeder swerve. "Blast it! Those guys look like they've brought an entire military weapon's rack!"

Mara's teeth were hurting with the strain of glimpsing into the Force, taking in their surroundings. This part of Coruscant consisted of less-crowded skylanes and more noble skyscrapers and luxurious villas. There was a lot to target here, both when it came to riches and to important beings.

"A hold-up?"

Leia blinked past her brother. "Those are the members of the Kuati senate delegation. They probably invited the people's families and entire entourage." Her voice rose in distress as they watched the grey-clad, masked and armed assault-team make their way onto the premises. Suddenly, they were everywhere, blasters raised, voices shouting for the people to lay down on the ground. "Luke, there are _children_ down there!"

Mara could feel the growing fear of the people, the searing terror radiating off the innocent people being caught in something they did not want to be part of. "Why the hell is there no air surveillance around this complex tonight?! We have to call the CPD – Skywalker, _what the Sithin' hell–"_

Because, with an expression of absolute concentration on his face, Luke Skywalker swung his legs over the edge of the speeder, his lightsaber securely in one hand, short-circuited the speeder's security settings with a short Force-blast - and _jumped_. His dramatic entrance – or exit, depending on the relative height of the viewer – was greeted by a spike of stunned and quickly quenched disbelief in the Force as he landed in the middle of the dancefloor, igniting his lightsaber simultaneously. A sudden flare of controlled hostility went up in the Force as the attackers realized what had just happened.

Mara cursed. Leia managed a grin, despite her sudden echo of fear. Han was fiddling with the comm, cursing; apparently the holonet had conveniently gone down in the entire district. "Wow, Mara."

"Get the hell away from here!" Mara snapped at Han. In one jolt, she pushed herself off the speeder's backseat and vaulted over the edge, free-falling ten meters. She buffered herself with the Force gently, slowing her descent, and landed squarely on her two feet.

The hostage-takers had already reacted, and did so rationally. They were well-trained, she noted detachedly. Three of them kept their blasters squarely on three people they had separated from the crowd – a Kuati senator in an elaborate robe and two women who were either distant relatives or personal secretaries – while the ten others, realizing what kind of threat they were facing, fanned out in a half-circle that kept them in the focal point of their blasters without subjecting each other to friendly fire. Behind them, the hostages were crying and whimpering in terror.

Suddenly, Mara found herself back-to-back with Luke Skywalker, both their lightsabers ignited, facing well-organized, cold-blooded criminals who were ready to shoot not only the stray Jedi that had wandered in on their party but every innocent bystander, as well.

"Jedi," the apparent leader said, no trace of either anger or surprise in his voice. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"That's what we wanted to ask, actually," Luke shot back, almost nonchalant. She could picture his confident grin. Had Mara not felt the strain in his shoulders where his back was pressed to her almost too tightly, she would have stepped away and let him deal with them himself. "Was there a memo I did not get? I am insulted. You should have been polite enough to invite us, as well. But oh, I forgot, you only take on civilians, elders and children, not people your size. And even that, you only do when you have your buddies and a mountain of arms with you, don't you?"

Since they were outnumbered and facing pros, it probably was not a good idea to provoke them. Mara wanted to scream.

"Kill them," the leader ordered, coolly.

His people were well-trained. They opened fire without any hesitation. Mara's lightsaber hummed, a blazing torch of violet energy, as she began deflecting blaster-bolts. Luke did the same behind her, covering her back. Each one of them covered a ninety degree angle of the half-circle, and at least the shots did not come from alternating heights, but even so they were barely able to protect themselves. Despite their efforts, the screams of people who were hit by ricocheting energy blasts peaked.

Their chances, Mara knew, were small to nonexistent. The kidnappers were not stupid. As soon as they started alternating their shot's height and angles, Luke and she would not be able to protect themselves, much less the hostages. They would take hits, and they would grow weaker…

They would _die_.

They had to act now, immediately, because there was no other way they would be saved if they did not save themselves.

 _Cover me_ , she shot at him, felt his mental flinch of surprise and twisted in mid-movement, rolled over the floor, brought up her lightsaber to deflect two blaster-bolts and a stun gun and came up just in front of two of the very surprised attackers. Her blade cut through their weapons, severed a hand from an arm and cauterized the stump immediately, and she hammered the butt of her lightsaber into the first one of the masked heads. The man went down immediately. Enraged, the second one pulled an arm-long vibro blade on her. She dove under it, bringing her elbow up in a swing that knocked back his head violently. She followed with a Force-enhanced spin-kick and the man was thrown backwards, into a pillar. Four of the eight remaining men whirled to shoot at her, taking half the strain of deflecting blasts off Luke. And suddenly she was not sure anymore her idea had been a good one, because with the focus of four grown men pointing their energy weapons at her and firing as fast as possible, she could feel the tremor in her arms that heralded exhaustion. Mara drew on the Force as hard as she could and felt Luke do the same, his earlier confidence now replaced by a burning focus. His concentration was so great she grasped at it almost automatically and felt her focus merge with his in a rudimentary Force battle meld.

The sound of a siren sliced through the ruckus, loud and ear-splitting, and splintered her concentration into a myriad fragments.

One misstep, and one of her attackers lifted his newly-loaded blaster, the muzzle pointing straight at her, and -

\- and then Han came into view, the man in front of Mara crumbled, a burnt patch of hair where the stun bolt had hit him straight in the head. And behind Han, there was Leia, expertly carrying a blaster, and _where the hell_ , were they not _thinking_ , what was Leia doing here, she might be able to protect herself but she only had a blaster and here was a dozen or so of those crazy people who wanted to shoot them all and of course seeing their comrade fall the criminals that had been guarding the hostages turned, as one, and lifted their blasters –

She had never moved so fast in her life.

Mara dove in front of Leia and Han, deflecting red blaster bolts, the Battle net with Luke fracturing as both of them realized what was at stake. And then the sirens were all around them and CPD officers were everywhere; shielding the hostages, securing the perimeter, shouting at them to surrender their blades. For a short time, there was chaos, and then, suddenly, everything flashed back into crystal-clear focus.

"What are your names, Jedi?" A police captain came towards them and Mara shot Han and Leia a glare with the unspoken order to duck and move.

Luke stepped forward, covering his sister and her boyfriend for a second and giving them time to disappear in the crowd.

"I'm Luke Skywalker, Captain, and this is Mara Jade. We're not yet Jedi. We witnessed the situation and stepped in."

At least he was taking responsibility. Not that it would have brightened Mara's mood. Now that they were safe, she realized how angry she was at him. While the officer debriefed Luke – when it came to it, every member of the Order had the strict order to adhere to civilian law – all the ways this could have gone wrong ran through her head. He could have gotten himself hurt. He could have gotten the hostages killed. He could have gotten Leia _hurt!_ Leia, who did not have the Force as a shield, as they did. Leia, who could use a blaster and hit a mouse droid on thirty meters, but who had never pointed her weapon at a human being before. Leia, who had joined her brother, because she had been worrying for _his safety_.

Of all the stupid, reckless, _idiotic_ things Luke Skywalker could have done!

When the officer finally let them go, Luke and Mara met Leia and Han in a side alley where Han had parked the speeder. Almost wordlessly, they flew back to the Temple, almost two hours late.

Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker awaited them, their Force presences a wave of doom.

Han, Mara thought, should be grateful that he could not feel the aura of apocalypse hanging over the two Jedi Masters.

"Follow me," her master said, his voice icy, and Mara hung her head. She, the twins and Han Solo did as ordered, traipsing after the Jedi Master and Grand Master like conscience-stricken delinquents on their way to a court hearing.

"You," Master Skywalker said, piercing them with his icy gaze as soon as the door of the Grand Master's office had swished closed behind them. "We had an _agreement_. You wouldn't get into trouble, and behave like _adults_ -"

"But Dad," Leia intervened, her head high but her shoulders slumped. "There were people in danger!"

Her coaxing did not help them this time. Anakin Skywalker stared at her, coolly.

"There were people in danger, and the only thing you thought of was getting right in the middle of it? And you, Leia, without any Force training, what would have happened if the ensuing blaster fight would have caught you in the middle?"

"She wasn't in danger," Luke inserted himself. "Mara and I-"

"I expected more from you, Mara, than to blindly follow this idiot son of mine into the heat of a fight," Master Skywalker continued, his cold wrath shifting to Mara. She hung her head, wordless. "And you, Luke, you know how important it is to help innocent bystanders, how important it is to protect others – but you have to think of your own safety, too! You can't just jump out of a _speeder_ , for _Force's_ sake-"

An unfamiliar sound interrupted his tirade. Everyone in the room froze.

"Master Kenobi!" Master Skywalker sounded incredulous. "Are you _laughing_?"

The old Jedi's shoulders, indeed, were shaking suspiciously, but his face was firm. "Of all the things these kids have done tonight," he said, his voice grave, "of all the danger they faced together and the lives they have saved, and you are angry with them for having jumped from a speeder? You, Anakin, of all!"

Indignant, Mara's master drew himself up to his full height. "I don't recall ever jumping into a hostage crisis without…" He began, and then he and Mara, as stunned as the twins and Han next to her, watched as the smile slowly spread over Master Kenobi's entire face.

"Alright," Master Skywalker finally conceded, sighing. "I was reckless in the past. That doesn't mean Luke should go and repeat all my mistakes."

"But how should we learn, if we do not repeat our father's mistakes in order to learn from them?" Master Kenobi smiled kindly at his rapt audience. "Have you learned your lesson, young Skywalker?"

Luke, next to Mara, seemed to shrink into himself. "Yes, Master," he said.

"Well, then, these will give you some more time to remember," the old Master said, rattling down a list of chores for them to do – for the next three weeks. "And now, off you go."

Off they went.

"Oh, and, Solo?"

Han Solo froze, as did Leia. It would have been funny, had not Mara's nerves been already completely frayed that night. Master Skywalker circled around them, and his glare would have frightened mynocks.

"I hear you are seeing my daughter?"

The teenager swallowed, nervously. "Yes, Sir."

Master Skywalker's face was impenetrable. He just stared at Han until the poor guy drew on all his courage and stood up taller. Then, before he could even say anything, Leia's father turned away.

The four teenagers fled without looking back.

Luke, still high on adrenaline, began laughing as soon as they were out of earshot. He was still laughing when Leia and Han dropped into the sofa of the small, comfortable room the Jedi used as a kind of common room, collapsing over each other and beginning to laugh, too. Luke joined them, while Mara perched on the armchair next to it rigidly.

"Oh, did you see Dad's face?" Leia asked, wiping tears from her eyes. "I don't believe he went and did the same as you today, Luke! I bet a hundred credits Master Kenobi was furious!"

Her boyfriend sobered again, momentarily. "Wow. He's really something. I almost pissed myself just there." And, just like that, the grin was back. "You mean, your dad really jumped from a speeder? And, you're betting money on it? What do you know, Princess, I'll make you a gambler yet!"

"Impossible!" Mara contradicted. "Master Skywalker wouldn't have done something so stupid…"

The look Leia gave her was full of pity – and mischief. "Master Kenobi kind of confirmed it, Mara."

Mara crossed her arms, huffing. "I don't believe him."

Luke had stopped laughing, and glanced up at her, his eyes bright blue. "I almost didn't either. That was a brilliant move, Mara, earlier, the way you took out those first two guys. Absolutely brilliant. Go out with me?"

Han whistled. Leia hid her face in his chest, but her shoulders shook. Mara could imagine her laughing. She stared at Luke, dumbstruck. "What?!"

He grinned, confident as kriffin' hell. "You heard me. Go out with me?"

"Sure as hell not!"

"Ouch," Han mock-whispered. "Too bad, buddy."

"That's okay," Luke said, not the least fazed. "I'll just try again."

Leia was still hiding her face. Mara attempted to storm from the room without a further word, but Luke's hand shot forward, unfailingly, and caught her. His sky-blue eyes mirrored nothing but honesty.

"I'm sorry, Mara. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. Please accept my apologies?"

She glared at him, incensed. "Why should I?"

His smile was disarming, as usual, and she hated it. "Because I mean it."

Oh no, she would not accept his apology, not that easy, not that simple. This was more than he could laugh off with that stupid smile of his – Leia could have been hurt! And to ask her out, of all- _Force_ , what was the guy thinking? Mara would not accept his apology.

She also did not speak to him for two days straight. Little did she care if he called her childish and immature: _Pot, introducing kettle, thank you very much._

He wore her down, eventually, and she forgave him. Because even if though his demeanor annoyed her, it was impossible to stay angry with him for long. But she would not budge on her refusal to go out with him.

He would not budge on trying to ask her out, either.

How stupid that they were, more or less, equally stubborn.

* * *

The long day became days, and then weeks, and weeks became months became years.

On Jakku, Mara had measured time passing by the number of scratches she carved into the wall of her small hide-out. These days, time passed and she had to forcefully remind herself that it did. Months seemed to slip by like water, intangible, and she would look back and wonder when it had happened that they had passed by her without her fearing every next dawn.

"Hey, Jade."

Kyle Katarn was a straight-forward guy who had taught himself most of the Force abilities he possessed. Before he had come to the Temple he had been in the New Republic's military forces and still acted as a kind of liaison nowadays. Mara knew the Jedi of the Old Order had not been allowed to be invested in anything other than the Jedi Order. But the old Jedi also had not been allowed to have relationships and marry, and obviously, Master Skywalker had been married. There were many things, Mara knew, that had changed with the execution of the Order 66 and the annihilation of so many Jedi. (Sometimes, she thought she could hear them whisper in the waters in the Hall of Fountains, and if she heard them, how did someone as attuned to the Force as Luke Skywalker would feel about that? But she never asked him, for various reasons.) Tionne, a fellow Jedi slightly older than Mara herself, had taken it upon herself to re-discover the history of the Old Order, but even she could not give answers to every question that concerned the laws and customs of Old.

The New Jedi Order was still small, and only few masters were left to form the council. Master Skywalker had once told her he should not have been promoted at all – had been strictly against it, in fact – but he had been overruled. It had simply been necessary to establish the council again in order to show unity and strength. After one of their own had betrayed the Order and Darth Sidious had tried to rise to power, the peoples' trust in the guardians of the Old Republic had disappeared. The fact that Grand Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker had defeated the man who had called himself the Emperor had only restored small parts of that former trust and the Jedi were working very hard every day to gain it again. That meant that they cooperated with any civil and public force and provided help and advice whenever needed.

"Kyle," Mara greeted back. She liked him: he was a good sparring partner. His weaponless fighting ability was almost as good as Han Solo's, Leia's longtime boyfriend-or-not (depending on whom of the two you asked) CorSec partner-in-crime, Corran Horn – although Mara was pretty sure Horn was Force-sensitive, as well. Aside from his fighting skills he had a quick mind and an agreeable humor. His presence was calming. "Back from The Other Side?"

It was a long-standing joke between Luke, Kyle and a few of their friends that were NR military that Jedi could not stand military guys – and the other way round. Both institutions further enforced that suspicion by not letting any opportunity pass to rib at each other. It was one of those macho things Mara - and Leia - simply could not understand. Whenever the guys were in the same room, an argument would start up sooner or later.

Mostly, it ended with them competing against each other in flight simulators. In the brief but brutal war that had broken out one-and-a-half years after Mara and her master had returned from the Unknown Regions, Luke Skywalker had joined an X-Wing squadron, while Kyle had served as the liaisoning officer. Leia, of course, had been at the political heart of the Yevethan Crisis. The Skywalkers always seemed to be the center of every minor and major incident, Mara had the feeling, but this time they had been personally involved because Han Solo had somehow managed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and had been taken prisoner, and of course Leia _had not_ taken well to that. Thankfully, the war had been over quickly. Nowadays, Kyle usually hung back while Wedge Antilles, Corran Horn, Luke Skywalker, Wes Janson and Gavin Darklighter showed off their flying skills. ( _Luke was_ good _, she had to give him that._ ) But he was no less a part of their group because of his groundpounder status.

"Wedge said to say hi," Kyle reported. "He's very sorry he can't make it here today. As are Wes and Gavin – they've got a mission. But I am to remind you that Wedge will beat you at Sabbac the next time."

Mara laughed. "He can try," she said. "But to be honest, he doesn't really carry off a poker-face well."

"He doesn't, does he?" Kyle snorted fondly. "He's like a kid. And then he's surprised when he loses again."

"At least he doesn't try to cheat, like others whose name I won't name for discretion's sake…"

"I am sure Wes will be glad to hear you haven't given him away."

"I would never dare thinking of it."

Kyle snorted. "Of course not. Is it time, already?"

"I was on my way."

"I'll accompany you," he offered, grinning. "If Leia was in charge of the preparations again…"

"Then none of us will be able to leave tonight, right," Mara finished his sentence. "Well, better too much food than too little."

"As, I can imagine, some of the invited will say about the booze."

They made their way through the Temple at a leisurely pace. They had just crossed the Hall of Fountains, when Luke Skywalker turned around a corner and saw them.

"Hey, Mara! Kyle," he greeted them cheerfully. "Already on your way?"

"Luke," Kyle responded. "Yeah. You coming?"

Luke shook his head. "Sorry, I'm on my way to meet Master Kenobi, he asked me to come on short notice. I hope it will be quick – I don't want to miss anything, right Mara?"

His smile riled her up, as usual. How as it possible to know the world as she knew it, and to, at the same time, still be so naïve like a farm boy? And, at the same time, his usual cockiness shone from his eyes, unmistakable.

"How am I supposed to know what you don't want to miss?" She shot back, acidic.

He grinned, again. "Of course. I'll be there as soon as possible. See you later!"

And off he went. Mara huffed, perhaps in relief, perhaps in anger. Unfortunately, it was not quiet enough for Kyle to overhear. He turned towards her, his eye brows touching his hairline.

"I hope you don't take this wrong, Mara, but I always considered you as a friend who valued truth over tact. So I'll be frank: what's it with you and Luke?"

She had told herself the same for almost four years now, and was able to keep a straight face as well as a calm Force presence. "Nothing. Why?"

"I don't know." Kyle frowned at her, as if he was trying to read something in her face. Carefully, Mara drew up her walls even higher. "I just saw you together, and… I don't know." He shrugged. "Did he ever ask you out again after that first time? Did you sleep with him?"

 _Like_ , every Force-forsaken _half year._ But neither she nor Luke – or so she hoped, for _his_ sake – had ever mentioned anything about the fact that he returned with the same question every six standard months, or that her answer always was the same.

Then, the other thing he had said caught up with Mara.

"HELL NO!" A second later, she reeled her temper back in with inhuman strength. "No!" she repeated, even more forcefully but quieter. "Why would you think something like that?"

Kyle blinked at her, not fazed by the strength of her reaction. "You and the Skywalker twins always have been close. You're like a family, everybody can see. But since that incident with Callista… I don't know. I thought you and Luke seemed more… distant… since then. I wouldn't want my best friends to fall out over anything. I just thought I'd ask."

He was worried about her. About them. He also was a pretty keen observer. It was true that Mara did not particularly like the newest addition to the New Order… But she also did not _dislike_ Callista. It was difficult to hate a kind, soft and helpless woman like her. And her sentiments for Callista Ming also had nothing to do with her feelings for Luke Skywalker.

But Kyle had been honest with her. Mara repaid honesty with honesty.

"It's nothing," she said, pushing aside embarrassment and everything else in favor of being calm. "Really. Luke... Skywalker and I, we've just been a bit… out of it. But everything's fine, honestly."

Kyle eyed her, wordlessly, and finally shrugged. "It is none of my business," he said. "But I have the feeling you would be good together. Working together, as partners, you know."

Mara laughed at that. "Yeah, well, and a wookie and a tree are good together, too."

Her fellow Jedi huffed a laugh, and Mara heaved an unheard breath of relief. She did not want to give him ideas. She was grateful he worried about her – but there was no need, really. She and Skywalker got along just fine, they could work together without problems. It was just her who felt unkind resentment against him for things that were not in his power to change.

"Mara!"

Leia's presence, as usual, was bright and achingly welcoming. She was flanked by Tionne, Cilghal, Han Solo and Corran Horn, and quickened her step to be the first to reach Mara.

"Congratulations!" She almost sang as she pulled the taller woman down into a hug. "Happy 18th Birthday!"

Mara was buried under an avalanche that was her friends' emotions as they greeted and congratulated her. In the guest quarters in which Leia (and Solo, mostly) resided when they were at the Temple, the table was laden with food, a smaller one set aside for gifts. Mara had celebrated her birthdays before, with Master Skywalker. But somehow, she had come to value the days she had once looked forward to even more. It was special, somehow: to know that so many people cared for her, were happy that she was alive. On Jakku, nobody had given a damn. Master Skywalker had been the first, and Leia, and Tionne, and Cilghal, and so many, many more. Mara had never understood why, had merely accepted it as a fact, until -

\- until, suddenly, through the jumbled echoes of memories and questions, the answer punched through her defenses like a laser-guided warhead. It was not that the question had become normal, so normal she did not consider it anymore. No. It was that the _place_ had become normal to her. _Familiar:_ beloved. The people around her, the sounds, the hallways, even the sun rays falling through the skylights of the greenhouse. Mara had never wished for this, might never have _imagined_ she would ever live in a place like this. And she still felt uncomfortable, on times. She still thought back at the silence and loneliness of Jakku, at her master's calm steadfastness during their travels. She still felt like she did not belong, like she never would.

And yet.

Somehow, throughout the years and without Mara consciously noticing it, the Jedi Temple and all the people inside – Leia, Luke, Corran, Kyle, Tionne, Cilghal, Grand Master Kenobi, even Callista – and all the other people she knew and liked - Han, Chewbacca, Wedge and the guys - had become a part of her life.

A part of her _heart_.

Even Luke Skywalker had, despite everything.

She did not hate him for it. It did not mean she liked him more. But he was part of her life now, for the better and the worse.


	3. Luke

**Luke**

Luke Skywalker, Mara learned over the following years, was very much like his father.

His presence in the Force was… _staggering._ Bright, like a light in the darkness, a warm glow that seemed to touch everything around him and made it seem kinder and calmer than it was in reality. His Force abilities were similarly strong to his father's although he, of course, he lacked Master Skywalker's years of experience and the thereby acquired practice. But Mara could see his future self in the young man he was right now, at least sometimes: not tall but steady, protective: a shield between the ones that needed protection and the ones that attacked them, between Light and Dark. Weak enough to be kind and strong enough to tear away from darkness and evil before it destroyed everything. Kind enough to take in an orphan who had nothing, not even a name. Impatient to the point where old-settled rules would be disregarded in favor of progress, and yet patient, so patient, with children and students. Skywalker would be a good Jedi Master one day, although Mara wasn't sure whether she wished for him to be a _great_ Master, as well. Greatness always came with a price, after all, and she did not wish the grief that sometimes clouded Master Skywalker's mind on anyone. Not even on him.

 _Look at that. Getting soft here, Jade?_

But where Master Skywalker seemed… it was difficult to describe, perhaps _subdued_ – his son was definitely _not._ He was energetic, enigmatic and extroverted. He charmed especially elder women and children immediately – Mara couldn't help roll her eyes excessively at the first and find the latter marginally endearing, though annoying on the long run. But there was something she just could not put her finger on, and it bugged her. Perhaps it was that he was _cocky_. Not in a bad way – Mara knew arrogance when she saw it – but it still rubbed her the wrong way. Had Master Skywalker been that way as a boy, too? She could not imagine her calm, at times cynical master as a young man. He'd never have jumped at the idea of lightsaber training the way Skywalker did, or would have pestered other people until they were ready to explode on him. And she was pretty sure he had never annoyed his friends and teachers up to the point they rolled their eyes, sighed his name and allowed him to do whatever he wanted to do, just because he had smiled at them with that grin that seemed to get him all he wanted and more.

It would have been endearing, perhaps, had it not been so _aggravating._

But Luke Skywalker was Mara's master's son, and her best friend's twin brother. It was impossible not to meet him, not now, now that Mara had found something strangely like that thing she always had wished for as a child. The strange something that met for Sunday breakfasts and bickered over tea, that fought on which holovid to watch and argued politics and gossip over dinner. Something that made her keep a lookout for senate sessions that would bring Leia to Coruscant, and that stopped her from filling her schedule on the certain days she knew Master Skywalker kept open and free of Temple business. Hours like stars, like sparkling wishes a little orphan on a desert planet once upon a time had only dreamed of: it was something that felt like family, and Mara could not believe she was a part of it.

Luke Skywalker also was a Jedi, just like her. It was impossible not to run into him again and again as they passed through the Jedi Temple in between their respective assignments.

* * *

It should have been possible, however, Mara thought crossly, to avoid meeting him on an out-of-the-way-of-the-usual-trade-routes, outer-rim planet like Wayland. How had he even _thought of_ coming there?

"Mara." As usual, Skywalker's greeting was accompanied by his bright smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Skywalker," she said back and allowed him to pull her into a lose hug out of which she pulled away quickly and without a second glance or single stab of guilt. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Leia had once said, amused, that Mara's condescension would manage to cower even a krayt dragon. It never got to him, however.

"It's great to see you, too," he returned cheerfully. "I'm investigating a rumor that the mountain was a secret base of operations during the Galactic Civil War. You?"

Mara was not impressed. "I'm here to talk with a contact of Karrde's."

"So, did he already offer you a position in his information brokerage empire?"

She shot him a sharp glance, and Skywalker laughed.

"Sorry, is that something I shouldn't know?"

He should not know. He _could not._ It was impossible for him to know that she had indeed thought of joining Talon Karrde's crew because she had never told anyone of it, and aside from Karrde and Dankin, his second-in-command, nobody even knew he had made her the offer. The man was a good boss, and an honest, honorable man. Mara had worked with his people a couple of times in the years since her master and she had returned from the Unknown Regions. Every time had been easy and interesting, work so completely different from her calling as a Jedi. A job that allowed her the freedom of roaming the galaxy, of honing her skills in diplomacy as well as in what Leia called her _smuggler sense._ Jobs in which her blasters and her trusted vibro blade were used more often than her lightsaber. Those were good jobs, a nice change to her duties to the Order, and sometimes, Mara was… _tempted_. She really was. But then she just had to remember her master, and how he had picked her up from the endlessness of Jakku's desert. It was not that she owed him – though she did, in a way, even if he would never allow her to say it outright. But she did love what she was doing, and more than that, she loved the Force. It was a _part_ of her. Giving it up was impossible. Working for Karrde part-time, however, similarly to the way Kyle Katarn was working for the NR military… Sometimes, it was a tempting thought.

As of for now, she was satisfied to act as unofficial liaison between the information broker and the Jedi. The relationship was mutually beneficial.

"Don't pretend you know what I think, Skywalker."

"I apologize," he said with a sweep of his arm that was probably supposed to be an abbreviated version of a low bow. It looked ridiculous, and yet Mara saw, from the corner of her eyes, two girls passing by bursting into giggles and elbowing each other as his smile slid over them briefly. "I wouldn't deign to think I could guess your exalted thoughts."

Mara sighed in annoyance. She felt a headache creep in, slowly but surely. It had started when she had entered the planet's atmosphere. She hoped it would be gone by the next day.

"Let me take you out for dinner," Skywalker said, his eyes bright. One glance at her, however, and he amended his proposal. "Or, let's have dinner and split the bill."

He did not roll his eyes, she noticed. He always was polite despite his obnoxiousness.

They went out for dinner.

Mara hoped that had been the last of what she had seen of him on Wayland, but of course, nothing ever went smoothly. The next time she saw him it was across a large hall, and both of them had their lightsabers activated.

* * *

Wayland, despite its inhabitants' best efforts to make it appear otherwise, did not have much in common with Coruscant.

Or Alderaan.

Or, really, any other major planet _not_ in the Outer Rim Territories. It was an off-the-chart planet with a temperate climate, more or less friendly human inhabitants and two native species that did not really coexist peacefully but did coexist, somehow. For a week, Mara was stuck in a small base far from the next major village and close to the forest. She found it did not matter much to her: the rain forest was a miracle. The lush green of it, the sounds, the scents – it was everything the desert was not, nothing like Coruscant. She could have spent hours just listening to the sounds of the leaves rustling in the wind. Secretly, she wondered: did she like the forest because it was so different from what she knew, or did she like it because it could not remind her of the desert? The question brought up all kinds of unwanted memories, and she quickly abandoned the particular thread of thought.

Karrde's contact arrived three days late and with only half the information she had hoped he would have. Nevertheless, it was exchanged civilly, another reason why she liked Karrde. He might be an information broker and smuggler, on times, but he always was honest. Mara also liked Dankin, effectively the information broker's second-in-command, even if she did not really understand him.

"Why did we have to meet here?" she asked, before they went their respective ways again, surveying the lush greenness surrounding them.

Dankin grinned, drawing her in for a kiss, and shrugged. "Does it bother you?"

Except for rolling her eyes, there was nothing she could do: people trading information rarely gave away their valuable goods for free. She said goodbye to Karrde's smugglers and boarded her yacht again.

The _Jade's Fire_ was Mara's whole pride. She had gained the ship from an overly involved industrialist who had orchestrated his daughter's kidnapping in order to collect sensitive sensor information. After her rescue, his daughter had given the SoroSub 3000 to Mara, as a thank you and as compensation. Usually, Jedi were not allowed to keep gifts given to them, but Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker had arranged for Mara to buy the ship off the Jedi Order. The amount of credits had been substantial, but the yacht had the best tracking systems that were offered on the free market, a unique shoot-back system that would read the vector of incoming missiles and fire back on the calculated trajectory, and quad turbolasers. It had taken almost all her savings, all the bounty credits she had collected in the past years, but it had been worth it.

Still, despite her pride, Mara had piloted the ship with mixed feelings, some of them that felt suspiciously like guilt. The _Angel of Naboo_ , Master Skywalker's ship, had been her safe haven for such a long time. It felt wrong to replace it, even if it was with her own ship, even if the _Fire_ was completely different. At the same time, the Temple had become more and more familiar to her over the past few years. It was impossible to say where Mara belonged. Realization, as always, was a painful thorn in her side, but that was just the way it was. Maybe she was simply not meant to have a home.

Someone contacted Mara just as she was ready to depart.

The holo transmitter lit up on her private frequency and there was Leia: honey-haired, brown-eyed and beautiful, but the skin was drawn tight around her eyes. Her friend did not only merely look worried, but _older_. Leia Skywalker Organa Solo – the names kept cropping up, just like her titles – was not quite twenty-two, but now she looked ten years older. Mara was not sure whether to blame it on Leia and Solo's latest adventure or to her current situation, but no matter what it was, it was not good. Some time ago, an alien species had abducted Leia to a planet called Honoghr, on which she had discovered that extensive parts of the planet's flora and fauna had been dying due to a poison that had been planted into the ground during the Galactic Civil War and was still continuing to kill the crops. Together with Solo, who had followed his then-fiancée immediately, she had convinced the Noghri, the native species, that she was on their side and had begun collecting evidence, despite the resistance of some of the old clans. They had been loyal to the long-dead Emperor, and to a person they called Lord Vader who turned out to be young Anakin Skywalker before he had returned to the Light Side. When she revealed that she was Anakin's daughter, the Noghri finally agreed to help her. They had been so thankful they had even made Leia their honorary princess, and had given her a permanent honor guard to ensure her safety. The last time Mara had spoken to her before she had left Coruscant to hop over to Wayland had been via holonet, too. That time, already, Leia had seemed tired; now, she sounded positively exhausted. Briefly, Mara wondered what political crisis was brewing this time.

"Something is wrong with Luke," Leia said, without preamble. "I can't say what. He just… feels strange."

Mara had always known there was a Force bond or something similar between the twins. It explained a lot of things. Maybe Leia, despite her lack of Force affinity, felt the connection to her brother especially keenly, or her Force sensitivity had grown in the past years. It did not really matter, anyway. Leia's worry was written all over her face and Mara felt herself tense, as well.

"Is he injured?"

"No," Leia said, her gaze becoming unfocused as she concentrated on her brother. "Physically, he seems fine. Tired, maybe. But his presence…" She paused, apprehensive, and Mara thought she saw something like fear flash over her features. Only that was unthinkable: This was _Leia_. Strong, kind, determined, beautiful, loving Leia. Leia, who was not afraid of _anything_.

"Mara, he feels _Dark."_

Mara almost collapsed backwards into the pilot's chair, all breath pressed out of her lungs.

"Did you tell Master Skywalker?" _Keep asking questions, Jade. Stay rational._

Every child and adult training to become a Jedi in the Temple of Coruscant, nowadays, learned the story of Anakin Skywalker's fall. Mara's master might have been able to fight the darkness and return to the light. But not everyone had the strength to withstand. There had been cases of it in the Temple, but she had never taken much notice of it. Students who changed, and then disappeared: it was a simple matter of blocking their Force abilities. A fate that hit far closer to home was the story of Kyp Durron, a Jedi of their age, whom Talon Karrde had picked up in the Spice mines of Kessel. He had been kept as a slave… And had fallen under the influence of a Sith Lord there. Karrde had brought him to Coruscant but he had fled again, returning to Kessel and unleashing the Sun Crusher against his former masters. Skywalker had followed him, and had, with some help, banished the ghost of the Sith Lord. Kyp was back in the Temple, right now, striving for absolution. Mara had met him – of course she had, they were few Jedi as there were – and had not found any lingering Darkness in him: only a deep, almost bitter longing to redeem himself.

It was, Mara knew, Master Skywalker's greatest fear: that he would not be able to stop his students from threading the path to the Dark Side, despite all his warnings and teachings.

But then, Kyp had been manipulated. If Skywalker really had crossed over to the Dark Side, that was something else entirely.

"I'll find him," Mara promised her friend, grimly. She might not especially like him, but he was a fellow Jedi and her master's son. Her best friend's twin brother. "I'll keep in touch."

"Thank you, Mara. Take care." The last thing she saw before she closed the connection and methodically started sifting through the contents of her bag was Leia's face. There was _trust_ in her eyes, clear and unveiled. Leia _knew_ Mara would find her brother, she _knew_ Mara would set the wrongs right again. And despite the suddenly choking expectations settling on her shoulders, she held herself ramrod straight: Mara would not disappoint her.

She needed supplies.

* * *

Finding Skywalker proved difficult, even though she knew the general direction of his location.

Mara finally went the extra-long route and localized his X-Wing by comparing up-to-date satellite images of the planet's surface around the mountain range with ones made one week before and earlier. She was extremely lucky: there was a clear gash visible in the forest, an X-Wing-wide, burnt streak of forest. Burn stains around the impact zone of what she severely hoped was only a more-or-less controlled landing site, not a crash site, made her gnaw her lip worriedly. It seemed as if someone had shot at the starfighter. But who, and how, and why?

Well, Leia still felt him, so he ought to be alive.

BB-8 managed to contact Skywalker's astromech droid as soon as she came into communication range. The X-Wing was actually hidden stealthily among the foliage of the low, dense underbrush of the forest that covered the foot of Wayland's mountain range. How, she wondered, had the secret base – because, obviously, this was a secret base – survived all those years without being detected? The answer came to her pretty quickly when she tried to cut an entrance through a well-hidden steel door in the forest ground: Cortosis. The metal ore short-circuited the crystals commonly used in lightsabers. Mara shrugged and used her trusty vibro-blade to get through the thin, papery layer of Cortosis covering the door, and then she was inside the fortress. From thereon, it was not difficult any more: she followed the sparse signs of life inside the base. Rooms whose ventilation system had been turned on recently, flickering lights. The mountain fortress was huge, but completely empty. The largest room was one that seemed like a throne room, and another one for strategy meetings. A holo hovered over the projection plate, a handful of datapads so old Mara wondered whether they were not actually books tossed beside them.

In the next room was Skywalker.

Almost comic relief threatened to punch its way through her focus, and she suppressed it ruthlessly. Mara only needed to look at him to see what Leia had meant: he looked dead tired but somehow _awake_ , as if someone had given him too many stim pills. There was a glow in his eyes that made something deep down in her chest hurt and set her mind on edge. And yet, the smile that crossed his face when he saw her was the same as ever: cockiness; self-assurance mixed with a hint of insecurity that nobody could see. A farm boy, innocent by some standards, naïve by others, and all of it coupled to the fact that he _knew_ what others saw when they watched him. This self-assuredness, so very much like arrogance, had always been what had upset her so much. Now, though, it was something familiar in so very strange circumstances, and Mara was almost stupidly _glad_ to see it.

It lasted only for the fraction of a second. Then, he remembered where they were: the welcome in his smile turned to fear.

 _Fear is the path to the Dark Side._

"Mara? Oh, Force, _Mara._ You can't be here! You have to leave!"

"You _shouldn't_ be here." She glanced at him, squinting in the flickering light. "What the heck _are_ you doing here?"

"Young Skywalker is studying the ways of the Force," said a voice behind her, and Mara whirled around.

"And you are who?"

"My name is Joruus C'Baoth. This young Jedi's master and teacher."

Joruus C'baoth, as became pretty clear pretty quickly, might have been quite accomplished in hiding his presence, but he was batshit crazy.

Mara did not expect anything else of a clone that had survived in a stasis chamber for years and had awakened to a completely different galaxy. From what she knew about the quick-aging process the early Kaminoan clone masters had forced on their works, mental stability often was the one thing that was sacrificed over quicker reflexes, faster thinking and inhuman strength. And maybe, all that, she could have dealt with: maybe she could have dealt with all of it together with Skywalker. But all that – strength, agility, intelligence – fell away in the face of the one thing Mara could not overcome: C'baoth was a _Jedi Master's_ clone. He was not merely a vat-grown, quickly-aged, inhumanely strong person with the best of whatever intelligence, reflexes, speed, ability and agility the clone masters had been able to throw into the literal cooking pot: on top of all of that, he was in control of the Force.

And that made him more than dangerous.

Of course, it would have been too simple if Skywalker had simply locked the clone into the mountain and set the whole thing to self-destruct.

"What can you teach him, I wonder?"

"The ways of the Force. Ways of the Jedi."

"And why do you think you know those things better than the Jedi Council?" She challenged him.

"The Jedi Council is corrupted and weak," he said, strangely intense. "It was stuck in its own routines before you came, its own belief that nothing ever should change. It was open for treason and corruption. Little wonder the Old Republic fell: a government is only as strong as its best protectors. I doubt any newly established council would have learned from its predecessors' mistakes."

"The Jedi aren't supposed to be the government's lackeys," Mara protested and felt, even before she had finished the sentence, that it was of no use discussing anything with the old man. Clone. Whatever.

"No, they are not," the clone agreed. "Young Skywalker told me what happened while I had been sleeping. The Jedi fell apart. They mistrusted each other, devoted themselves to the Dark Side. Betrayed the Codex, betrayed each other. Skywalker himself is a product of the chaos ensuing from the break-down of civilization, a child born from the seed of a Jedi who forgot his duties. There will be atonement necessary in order to balance the Force again."

Mara's eyes were slits. "Are you saying Skywalker's father committed a crime?"

"Yes, in the eyes of the Council. Yes, regarding the nature of the Codex. No, in the eyes of society. But Jedi stand above society: they have a duty. A Skywalker upset the balance: only a Skywalker can bring it again."

"That's utter nonsense."

Mara felt her fists open and close. She could hear a certain degree of logic in the man's words: it was what made him dangerous. Logic could lead to the wrong conclusions; what was necessary here was not only logic but _faith._ Who would have known, Mara thought, almost painfully sarcastic, that she would turn out to have more trust than Skywalker. She could not imagine how that could have happened. Whatever had eroded his walls was still eating away at him, and she had to get him out as fast as possible.

"Skywalker. There's nothing you have to atone for, absolutely nothing. You have no obligation to this man whatsoever. Come on, let's go. You have to get out of here."

"No." He sighed, tiredly, something that was so unusual for him it irritated her even more.

"This is insane! Skywalker, he's _Dark._ " There was no mistaking it. Every pore in her body screamed out in warning. "And mad. There is no hope for him."

"This is not atonement," he insisted, wearily. "I want to learn more about the old Jedi. Master C'Baoth has a lot to teach me."

Somehow, Mara doubted that. She could not even say why, exactly, except that she could feel darkness and insanity swirling around the clone like a lethal thunderstorm. It was her intuition that said the man was dangerous, and she had always trusted her intuition. It seemed Skywalker had been somehow tricked by him, or the clone had found a crack in his mental shield, that he had been able to influence the usually so headstrong Jedi that much.

"Skywalker," she said, quietly. "We need to leave, now." _Leia is worried._ "You can come back later." Later, she speculated, once they had left the planet, he would not be so perceptive to the old man's influence anymore.

"You have a sister?" The old man perked up and Mara cursed, inwardly. She had not even mentioned Leia, only pushed the thought in Skywalker's direction to _remind_ him. Somehow, the clone had caught it. "Is she as strong in the Force as you are? I'd like to get to know her."

This, _finally_ , seemed to peak his suspicion. "Leia is not Force-sensitive," Skywalker said, his eyes narrowing. "You can teach me more than her."

"Of course," the old man said, placating. "There merely is a long tradition of Force-sensitive twins in the history of the Jedi. All of these twins had extraordinary powers. I would like to witness the two of you together."

Something flashed in his eyes, and it made Mara shiver. She tugged at Skywalker's arm, but he was still unwilling to leave. She could feel the power of the Dark Side waiting just outside of her view, ready to strike once she lowered her guards. She could almost _see_ it, hovering right there, in the corner of her eyes. Darkness was everywhere in the mountain, only waiting to swallow them. Darkness born of many, many years of loneliness and rage, of having been forgotten, of having nobody to turn to. Mara was familiar with these feelings, but she had already overcome them a long time ago. They could not break her anymore. Was this the reason that Luke Skywalker, who usually was so strong, had succumbed to the temptation but Mara had not?

"Skywalker. Come. _Please_."

"You will not take my student from me," C'baoth said, stepping forward. Mara turned to run, but he Force-froze her before she could get away. "Young Skywalker needs this knowledge, and only I can provide it. You will not interfere."

Mara never had liked it when someone tried to restrain her.

She wrenched one of the ancient terminals from the wall with raw strength and threw it at him, diverting him momentarily. And before she could think, she was finding herself struggling with an unwilling Skywalker all the way through the fortress and towards the entrance she had come through. It was not that he did not _want_ to leave, but is physical state was a different matter. On times, he did not even seem able to hold himself upright, much less walk, and kept mumbling strings of incoherent words. Then, he snapped back into alertness only to tell Mara she needed to leave, and should just leave him there.

"Let me guess. You found him here and didn't want to leave him alone."

"He was all alone, Mara. He's been there, all the time, and had nobody to even talk to…"

Mara cursed his thickheaded curiosity and his kindness that had landed them in the situation along the entire way.

"And you thought, brilliant, let's just stay here with an instable clone and try to sort out his life for him? I always knew you had a world-saving complex, but _this_ , Skywalker, this utter foolishness-"

He had the decency to hang his head, though it could have been exhaustion, too. "I thought he could be saved. It was a mistake."

"No, he can't," Mara snapped. "Great we agree on the mistake part, at least."

Would this incident, she wondered, stop him from offering his help and his empathy again to someone who needed it in the future? Somehow, she doubted it. And, strangely, was glad for it: Luke Skywalker helped other beings. It was the way he was.

Of course, then, C'baoth appeared again. His white hair stood off his head, electricity crackling around him like blue, living fire. His eyes were glowing red. It was, Mara thought, something that should not exist outside of horror stories told to little children to scare them of Sith, or perhaps even just to scare them. And suddenly, Skywalker straightened himself in her grasp and spun away, lightning-fast. She caught his terrified gaze as his hands went to his lightsaber without his own volition.

Maybe it was possible because he was so utterly exhausted and vulnerable, that he could not fight the Dark Side. Maybe it was the sheer power of the insane clone itself.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm sorry," Skywalker pressed out between clenched teeth. "He's controlling me!"

The tip of his lightsaber was so close to her face that she could feel its searing heat. The characteristic sound of the two sparkling, hissing blades drowned out the rushing of her own blood in her ears.

"Dispose of her," C'baoth said. "And I will continue to teach you the deepest secrets of the universe."

Sweat ran down Skywalker's face. "No," he grit out.

 _"Kill her."_

"I won't kill Mara!"

 _"KILL HER NOW!"_

Darkness wrapped around the command, compelling, whispering, liquefying hate so ancient and insane she gagged on it. Skywalker was fighting C'baoths mental grasp, valiantly, sweat running down his face, the muscles of his arms twitching. They were locked in a stale-mate, and Mara feared he would not be able to withstand the Dark clone's commands much longer. He had already been exhausted when they had met. If C'baoth broke through his weakened defenses completely, Mara would stand no chance.

Because, she thought, almost huffing a laugh at the irony, Skywalker still was the better sword fighter of the two of them.

Her shortcomings seemed to pile up in front of her: Mara was the physically weaker one, the lesser sword fighter, the weaker one in the Force. Had C'baoth taken her instead of him, Skywalker would easily have been able to fight her. He would have easily been able to bring the two of them out, away from the crazy clone Jedi Master. But so, she had no chance but to struggle on, all her failures towering over her like an insurmountable obstacle.

She could not overcome a mountain by brutal force.

No. Mountains did not bow to nature, did not cower under displays of strength. The only thing that chipped away at them was time – unfortunately, time was a thing she did not have. The other thing was…

 _Patience, my apprentice_ , she could almost hear Master Skywalker's voice. _Calm your heart, and think._

Mountains could not be broken by force. But the little things affected them: droplets of water, roots and earth. If she could not fight C'baoth directly, could she fight him indirectly?

She would never know if she did not try.

Mara reached out to Skywalker – which was not easy, since they were still fighting, their lightsabers clashing and sparking – and tried to convey her idea. He winced when their Force presences made contact for the first time, but she ignored it and imagined them in weaponless sparring. Feint, attack, move into close range. He paused mentally and Mara urged forward: they needed to use C'baoth's own mental grasp on _them_ to secure a grip on _him_. They could do it. Mara was a master of weaponless sparring, this was nothing else _._ And Skywalker had the mental ability, so… And he understood, with a clearness that was astounding. Together, cautiously, painfully slowly, they took a hold, using the smallest cracks in C'baoth's grasp on them, winding around him and through his presence in Skywalker's mind. It was a strange place, his mind, but Mara had not much time to wonder. They threaded themselves around C'baoth again and again, and then, they _yanked._ And with something that felt like an electrical shock, Skywalker came free of C'baoth's grip. Mara could feel it: how everything suddenly seemed to slide back into place.

Suddenly, the strange mind she was in was _Luke_.

She huffed a sigh of relief – just as the Jedi Master, in a last display of force, let the lightsaber in Luke's hands arch down. It came at her in a lethal arc of energy that left Mara no room to dodge it. Focused both on a mental and a physical level, trying to aid Luke regain control over himself and, at the same time, defending herself against his strikes, she was a second too slow to dodge. She threw herself into a back-twist, only thinking to get as much space as possible between herself and the glowing blade of energy, and the lightsaber slashed down and burned a line of scorched clothing and fire from her shoulder down to her hip.

The clone Jedi Master's scream echoed through back from the walls. He fell and stumbled to his feet again, turned and fled from the room.

Horror pulsed through Luke so strongly Mara was unable to distinguish between her annoyance at herself and his fear. His lightsaber, deactivated, sailed over their heads and out of sight, as he made a move to come towards her.

"Idiot," Mara managed. _Don't just stare, get him!_ She pushed at him, mentally, and simultaneously hurled her own weapon at him. He caught it, reflexively, and paused, obviously torn – but he understood. Instead of running to her side, he went after C'baoth instead.

Mara grit her teeth and followed, knowing once she sat down to look at her wound she would not get up again easily. She found the two men in the throne room, dueling, the Master taunting the younger Jedi. For a split second, she saw what Luke had seen, felt the pity he had felt, too: for the lonely man, the broken man, lost and out of his time. She clamped down on it quickly. This was neither the time nor the place.

In the end, Luke did not need to kill him. Mara was strangely relieved by that fact. When the clone jumped backward and lifted a hand to call down another storm of Force-lightning, the outer walls of the building simply imploded. Stone, rubble and dust rained down on them, and with an ominous sound, the ceiling caved in. C'baoth threw his arms up in a last, desperate defense, but even his Force shield did not withstand the strength of the ceiling coming down. Mara felt an impact and was knocked aside; suddenly Luke was above her, shielding her body from rubble and debris. The dust of the caving ceiling had barely settled when an explosion rocked the hall. Instinctively, Mara threw up a Force shield and found Luke's already in place, the shields melted into each other for support and strength. In the blast, they both felt Joruus C'baoth die: the scream was pure anger mixed with loneliness, despair and insanity.

 _Kill-_

And then, suddenly, it was quiet.

Except for the _Falcon's_ turbines howling from where it hovered in the air outside and had knocked down the mountainside with one well-aimed blaster cannon shot.

 _Oh Force, I hope Solo had Leia with him to tell him what to shoot at, otherwise I'll kill him!_

The weight on her body was making it increasingly hard to breathe. Mara had to poke Luke to make him move. He rolled over with a groan, covered in plaster dust and bruises. Mara was sure she did not look any better as she stood, wobbling, holding her side and biting her teeth against the pounding ache, and surveyed the damage.

"I have to say, I always did imagine our honeymoon quite different," Luke croaked.

She would have kicked him, but she was so stunned at his sudden return she could not move. He offered her a smile – bright and cheerful, and not at all as if they had just almost died due to a maniac Jedi Master's clone and a collapsing building.

" _What_ -"

"A nice scenery, though," he continued as he stepped forward to wave at the _Falcon._ "I love the forests here. They're just so… alive, aren't they?"

That was when she found her voice. "You are the most stupid, pig-headed, insufferable _idiot_ I have ever met! Your stupid pity almost got us killed!"

"That bad, huh."

"I _hate_ you."

She said it with conviction, and she meant every word. At the same time, saying it out loud made her realize one thing: Mara was twenty years old and had no inclination whatsoever to go out with her Master's son. But fighting _alongside_ Luke Skywalker was so much easier than fighting _him._

Luke sighed as the _Falcon_ came to a stop hovering in the air in front of them, the ramp slowly descending. Chewie howled a greeting over the roar of the repulsors, which Luke returned before he looked at Mara again and smiled. "Let's go home."

He used the word _home_ so easily.

"Yes," she consented, nevertheless. And, for the first time, looked at him more closely. He looked horrible. His face was gaunt, his hair was matted to his head lifelessly, and his usually blue-grey eyes were of a sickly, colorless grey. His small stint with the Dark Side had not done him much good. But, at the same time, he had also _not_ given in to it. He still was a Jedi. He still was Light.

She could _feel_ it.

Mara was completely surprised by the sudden rush of relief that left her knees weak and made her stumble. She pushed it aside quickly when he looked back at her, eyebrows raised in a frown.

He had been stupid, thinking he could have turned a cloned, insane Jedi Master back to the Light without falling himself. _He was thinking of his father_ , an insistent voice said inside her head. _As you would have done, Mara Jade._

Someone kill her. She would have done the same as Luke Skywalker. But there was no denying that he was a good man, and a good Jedi. Grudgingly, she looked over at him. "You did well."

Mock-shocked, he tore open his eyes. "No!" He clutched his heart, dramatically. "Did Mara Jade just _praise_ me? Someone fetch Corellian Whisky!"

Something inside her wanted to laugh. Mara rolled her eyes, instead, and did so so hard she could feel the beginnings of a new headache.

Luke sobered again, rapidly. "Thank you, Mara. Really. If you hadn't come… I don't know what would have happened."

He looked so… _young_. At the same time it was Luke: the only person she had ever known to be able to make her lose her countenance.

"Well, Skywalker," Mara said, torn between a strange fondness and the usual, Skywalker-induced annoyance. "You owe me one, now."

He smiled, and offered her his hand to bridge the step over to the _Falcon's_ ramp.


	4. Leia

**Leia**

"Mara! You're back!"

Leia's hair, which she usually carried as a simple braid or in a tightly-wound bun on the back of her head, was now bundled up in two elaborately-coiled snails at either side of her head. To Mara, she looked both ridiculous and very, very much like _Leia_.

"Seems like it," she responded, drily, and returned Leia's hug. Which was not so easy, given her friend's eight months of pregnancy. "The kids are fine, I hope. You look great. What's with the hair, though?"

"Oh." Self-consciously, Leia touched her hair-do. "I don't know, really. Winter put them up for me. It's quite fashionable on Coruscant these days, but… I don't know," she repeated. "What do you think?"

"I liked it better before," Mara said. "But you know, fashion and I don't really mix."

Leia laughed. "I can attest to that." Relieved, she pulled what seemed like a dozen of hairpins from her buns. "I'm so glad you said that. I didn't really like it, either." Her hair fell down in two long braids which she quickly disentangled, gathered together and expertly twisted into one long braid. "How was your trip? How's Dad?"

"He's fine," Mara reported the important things first. "He sends his love. He'll be back in three days. Said he needed to meet an old friend."

"Three days?" Leia looked crestfallen. "My shuttle back to Alderaan is due to leave in four, and Han won't be back until in two weeks. Force knows where Corran, Chewie and he are off to once again. The troubles of being married to a CorSec officer, I guess… But!" Her face brightened again. "Luke commed. He said he'd be here tomorrow. So we can have a family dinner!"

She took Mara's hand and towed her to the settee that covered almost one entire side of the office. Mara did not resist and dropped down next to her friend, her hand still not hers only. The Skywalker twins were like that: touchy-feely. She had long gotten used to it and did not mind that much, anymore. It had been strange for her in the beginning, even uncomfortable. But she had learned so many things in the past few years, and a simple touch did not send her running anymore. Master Skywalker was different when it came to personal space, so they must have gotten it from their mother. And Leia, as opposed to her twin, at least had a notion of what the term _personal space_ meant.

It was strange how similar she and Luke were, despite one of them having grown up on Alderaan and one on Tatooine.

But just then, Mara could not have cared less for that train of thought. Suppressing a sigh, she leaned back and closed her eyes, insanely thankful that Leia did not possess the same amount of Force sensitivity as her brother had. Otherwise, she might have noticed the spike in Mara's emotions when the name _Luke Skywalker_ had fallen.

"Could you bring us something to drink, Threepio?" Leia asked the golden protocol droid that lingered in the background of the office, eager to be of service.

"Of course, Mistress Leia," the droid answered. "What would you and Mistress Mara favor?"

"A caramel caf for me," Leia said. "And a hot chocolate for Mara. Right?"

Mara smiled. "Yes."

"I do not think it would be advisable for you to drink a caffeinated beverage in your condition, Senator."

"Oh, Force!" Leia waved him off. "Make it decaffeinated, then."

The protocol droid moved away purposefully, and Mara thought she could detect an air of satisfied superiority in his movement at having achieved his goal. Even the Skywalker's droids were obnoxious, she thought with a mental sigh. Somehow, she could not muster the fond annoyance she usually reserved for the droid Master Skywalker had built and Luke had… _refined_. In comparison to Threepio and Artoo, BB-8 was inarticulate and out-dated, but she loved her companion dearly.

Leia rolled her eyes. "Hot chocolate. I have no idea how Dad, you and Luke all can drink that stuff. It's far too sweet."

"Says the one who dumps three packs of sweetener into her caf," Mara countered, ruthlessly ignoring the stab of pain that shot through her. Again. This was getting plain ridiculous.

Leia laughed. "Touché." She leaned back, her hands cupping her stomach instinctively, and looked at Mara. She was beautiful; Mara thought: her long, golden-and-brown hair framing her delicate features. Her face was glowing with the same steely determination and kindness her father and her brother also possessed. The pregnancy suited her, even though she looked tired. The fondness mixed with protectiveness welling up in her was warm and familiar, by now, and she reached out to touch Leia's hand on her own volition.

"You look tired. How are you _really_ doing?"

Leia pulled a small grimace that was equal parts honesty and irony. "Except for the part in which I look like a small space yacht, move like a TIE fighter in Alderaan's atmosphere and either shout at anyone who moves in my near vicinity of try to cry his head off? Great." She huffed, and the smile returned. "But the twins are alright. It seems they can't wait to end this, either."

Mara focused on her friend. _There._ She could feel them, almost _see_ them in front of her mind's eye: within the warmth, gentleness, stubbornness and incredible _familiarity_ that was Leia, two tiny lights were glowing. It was not the first time that she had touched the baby twins in the Force, and yet it awed her time and again. They were bright and pure, warm and full of unconditional love. And, yes, they did seem impatient: as if they could not wait to join the living in a galaxy of possibilities. It made her want to cry.

"They are perfect," Mara said, looking up at her friend whose eyes were clearly misting over, and pushed away the small, wistful sensation of longing.

Leia laughed, a short, breathless hitch in her voice. "Sorry. It's the hormones, I guess. I don't want to weep all over you."

Mara shook her head. "Don't apologize." It was just as well that she was able to focus on Leia. Right now, she had no strength to think about anything else – herself, especially. She could take Leia's focus off the impending birth – at least for a while. "What's your husband doing these days?"

Leia's face softened automatically. Mara had no idea how it worked between those two: Leia Skywalker Organa and Han Solo had one of those relationships which were impossible to understand for outsiders. It seemed like they were constantly fighting, arguing about everything: starting from Han's love for his ship, an ancient YT-1300 that, in Leia's opinion, only should serve as example how starship parts were _recycled_ after the final use, up to Leia's determination that she, even pregnant, still was well and truly able to attend the Senate meeting on Coruscant no matter the length of the sessions.

"Han's alright. Annoying as usual, too. He refuses to let me do anything when he's at home. I'm almost glad he's still got four more years in CorSec so he won't flutter around me like a mother hen all the time."

"You could send him off as a smuggler after that," Mara suggested, smiling. "They have almost round-the-year shifts, as well."

"And of course you'd know that," Leia laughed. "No, honestly, I'm glad when he's home. And being annoyed at him keeps me from worrying."

"You have the strangest relationship."

"Says the woman who hasn't had one relationship that lasted more than one month in the past few years," Leia countered.

Mara looked at her, frowning. "That's not... No. What about Lando?"

Her friend waved her off. "Lando doesn't count," she said, the corners of her lips twitching traitorously. "He was your cover story, not a real boyfriend." The certainty with which that little fact was stated was amazing. "Though…" Leia's voice turned wistful. "Luke did not seem all too happy about it."

"You know him," Mara said, dismayed at the sudden shift in topic. "Remember how he treated Han before he _allowed_ you to date?"

At the memory, Leia laughed. "Oh yes! He was one hell of an annoying elder brother."

"He still is annoying."

"He is."

They smiled at each other, sisters in all but blood. Then, Leia sighed. "I'm glad at least the four of us can have dinner together. How does 1800 sound, the day after tomorrow? How long has it been since we all were in the same room at the same day, anyway?"

"Almost a year?" Mara guessed, feeling the same guilt she could read in Leia's eyes creep up in her. Once upon a time it would have scared her. But the Skywalkers were her family, after all. "It's been too long. I'll be there."

"I'll comm Luke. Blasted Camaas crisis." Leia rolled her shoulders. "We couldn't even spend Christmas together." Her face brightened. "But the two of you travelled together for some time during that months, didn't you? After all, you found the Camaas Document."

"Yes," Mara said and immediately regretted allowing Leia the choice of topic. "We met on Nirauan."

"How did that happen, anyway?" Leia asked. "If I remember correctly, you were investigating some encrypted signal Karrde's people picked up. And Luke was supposed to be somewhere else completely."

"The Force," Mara said, resigning herself to it. "Skywalker had a vision. He thought I was in danger, and followed me there."

"I can't believe I never heard of that," Leia said, glancing at her friend sharply. "Neither Luke nor you told me. What happened on Nirauan?" And, as she, somehow, felt a shift in Mara's emotions, her concern rose: "Did Luke do something?"

Oh, Mara loved her.

Leia was wonderful, for many different reasons. For her cheer and optimism, her kindness and the way it melded with determination. For her sense of justice that went unhindered even after years of working the political circles. For her patience that mixed with impatience, somehow, without being paradoxical, for always realizing something was up, and, especially, for being diplomatic about it. For simply being the way she was, so beloved. For not minding Mara's … _difficult_ … relationship with her brother, for playing the soothing influence whenever they got into an argument. For never thinking the worst of her, even if she sometimes behaved borderline impolite. All in all, for simply being _Leia_ , always and forever: the best friend Mara could wish for.

And still.

This was too personal. Too raw. Mara wished for nothing more than to be able to tell her – and yet she could not.

"Nothing. We met on Nirauan, got into trouble, got out again. Found the document by accident, or rather, Artoo found it. That's it. I didn't even do much."

"That's not what Luke told me," Leia disagreed. "He said your help was vital but that you couldn't come to Coruscant to deliver it yourself. I should have contacted you immediately," she added, belatedly. "I'm sorry I didn't, but the Senate was in complete disarray and I..." She stopped, shame-faced.

Instantly, Mara's conscience kicked in. "No, _I_ am sorry. It was just… I don't know. So much happened on Nirauan. The native species – I made the wrong assumptions. In fact, I almost messed up. If Skywalker…" She broke off, desperate. She could not reveal pieces of it without giving away the things she did not want to say, and she did not want to keep a secret from Leia. Not because Leia would have pressured her to tell her, but because Mara just _could not._ So what was stronger, she wondered, her wish to keep her secret or her desperate need to tell her best friend?

"Luke…?" Leia prodded, gently, and Mara broke down.

"Okay, this is how it was," Oh Force, there they were. She wanted to have this entire thing over with it before she was buried too deeply. "The local sentient species caught me snooping around when I landed and took me prisoner – for my own safety, I might add. I couldn't communicate with them, but Skywalker could. It turned out they had just wanted to protect me. As you know, we found a stronghold set up by the Chiss Ascendancy. The commander of the base wanted us dead, but we managed to escape. We snuck in a second time, but it was a trap. Next, Grand Admiral Thrawn shows up and greets us by name. It turned out he and Master Skywalker met before and had some kind of agreement. He gave us the document and sent us on our way. However, when trying to get back to our ships, we found a hidden, sublevel cloning facility where we were attacked by droids –" She stopped herself, blushing furiously. "You probably know all of this already."

"Not everything," Leia said, calmly. "I know about Thrawn, also because Dad said that this guy was the only thing that stood between the New Republic and some very nasty species out there. But the rest…" She shrugged.

Mara closed her eyes briefly.

"Well, when we were fighting, Skywalker and I Force-bonded, or something, and he seemed to think it was important, and you know him, he hasn't stopped pestering me about going out with him for the past four years but I don't love him or anything, at least not romantically, so I said no and he was so angry and then he apologized and that was it and I just was really, really embarrassed but he told me to forget it and I haven't seen him since and I don't know-"

She finally managed to stop the torrent of words that were escaping her lips unchecked and hid her face in her hands.

"It's just so horribly embarrassing," she said, to no one in particular. _And he had looked so hurt._ Mara had been able to feel Luke's pain, blazing through the unanticipated Force-bond suddenly connecting their every emotions. It had been so bad she had automatically reached out for him. She had withdrawn the second she had realized her mistake, but he had felt her, and her pity: it had not made things better.

Luke Skywalker had tried, for the better or the worse, to make Mara go out with him for the past four years. Them forging a Force-bond in the caves of Nirauan had been the culmination of his doggedly stubborn, sometimes extremely irritating, on other times terribly annoying, pursuit of her. When Mara had refused him once again, perhaps with too much force, still rattled by their near-death experience, it had finally hit home. He had never before taken her refusal seriously; however, the aftereffects of the Force-bond had still made them transparent to each other when it came to their feelings. Luke had felt both her refusal and her pity, and she suspected it had been the combination of both that had stopped him from arguing with her when she had insisted of staying behind on the first inhabited planet with a civilian space port while he continued on to Coruscant with the important document.

She had avoided any meeting with him since then.

After Mara had blurted out her story, Leia was very, very quiet.

So quiet, in fact, for such a long time, that Mara peeked at her friend from behind her fingers.

"Say something," she implored the other woman.

"Well." Leia exhaled. Mara resisted the temptation to probe her friend's emotions with the Force. It was not that Leia, untrained as she was, was so open other Force-users could read her easily. It was worse: the Force-bond with Luke had never really disappeared, and she could feel some of Leia's emotions reflected in the bond she shared with Luke. It was a part of why it was so difficult to be in the same room with him, much less on the same planet: knowing what he felt and knowing he knew what _she_ felt simply was too much for her.

"I have to say, I did not expect that."

"What?" Mara asked, miserably. "The Force bond?"

"That you are finally taking him seriously."

The Jedi stared at her friend, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

Leia shook her head. "He asked you out so many times, and you always refused. I thought…" Her gaze was pensive, and far, far away. "I mean, I knew how you felt about him, and that he lo-"

" _Don't_ say it," Mara hissed. "It's not like that. Just another one of his passing fancies, like protecting Gaeriel or saving Callista."

Leia looked at her, calmly. Now that the moment had come, Mara realized she had expected Leia to be angry at her – on her brother's behalf. And she would have been right to be angry, because if anyone knew Luke Skywalker's heart, it was Leia Skywalker Organa Solo. But instead of being furious, she just seemed… sad.

"If the Force bond between you really is like the Force bonds I read of, Mara, or even the slightest bit like the one between Luke and me, then you know that's not true. And loving him doesn't mean you have to agree with him all the time. Look at Han and me."

It was not that simple, Mara knew. What Luke felt for her could not easily be ignored. It was not simply a passing fancy, an accident of fate or the likes. It was far more than that. And she had been the only reason nothing ever had happened. It was not that she still hated the Skywalker twin, that she had stopped a long time ago. He was kind, and polite, and throughout the years she had come to respect him. And she knew about his feelings. Luke Skywalker did nothing only halfway if he could do it completely and that was exactly what terrified her. She had seen herself _in his heart_. It was what she had seen during the brief connection and the loose bond that now still expanded between them, despite the fact that light-years still separated them, that had her frozen in fear. Because, no matter what had happened and would happen, one thing was clear: Mara Jade was not the kind of woman Luke Skywalker thought her to be, and never would be.

"Not everyone shows his love by fighting! I'm not like you, Leia. And sometimes I do wonder about you and Han, really, how can you live that way?"

The smile on Leia's face turned smug. "We do fight a lot. What can I say? Making up is very… _satisfying_."

Mara stared in horror. " _Leia_!"

"Where do you think those two come from, dear?"

"I know – Leia, really!"

Her friend laughed out loud. "Oh, Mara, it's because of this reaction that everyone tries to shock you with inappropriate comments!"

Tugging at her own, long braid, Mara huffed. "Well, I'm glad you're getting a laugh at my expense."

Leia smiled. "You bet." Then, her face turned serious again. "Mara. You know Luke has been in love with you almost from the moment you met. Did you never think of him as more than a friend?"

"He's a fellow Jedi," Mara said, desperate. "I respect him. I even like him. But… not like that, Leia!"

"But you know," Leia seemed to choose her words very carefully, "he is honest?"

"Yes."

Oh, she _knew_. Leia could bet she knew. Mara could feel Luke's emotions whenever she lowered the wall she had erected around her own mind even a fraction of a fraction. It was completely maddening.

"Thank you, Threepio."

Mara had not heard the droid return. She lifted her head, hoping his photoreceptors – and of course the droid's sight made her think of Luke Skywalker, because, maddeningly, he had to be _everywhere she looked_ – would not pick up on how shaken she was. Leia, unperturbed, took the tray with two steaming mugs from him.

"Threepio, could you check on the progress of the meeting of the committee for culture and education? Their head asked me for a private consultation afterwards. If they are done already, could you schedule one for me?"

"Of course, Mistress Leia," the droid said with a small bow. "I am glad I can be of service. It is my honor to serve the daughter of Master Skywalker with my extensive knowledge in three thousand and-"

"Thank you, Threepio" Leia, who knew exactly how the droid had to be handled when he got into one of his _helpful_ moods, said graciously, and both women watched Cee-Threepio exit the room. When he was gone, Leia handed Mara her cup of chocolate.

Mara stared into it with something very close to desperation. Now that she held it, the delicious scent reminded her of how much Master Skywalker and his son loved the beverage. It reminded her of _Luke._ It felt… _wrong…_ to drink it here, now, suddenly. It was completely irrational, and she was powerless.

"Now that I smell it," Leia said, cheerfully, "it's been ages since I had hot chocolate. May I try some?"

"Of course." Relieved, Mara handed her friend the mug. Leia pushed her caf over, carefully.

"You can have some of mine, here."

The Jedi picked up the cup, wrapping her hands around it, and thanked every power she could think of for friends that knew exactly how you felt-

Something shifted in the Force.

Mara almost did not notice it at first, and then it made her sit stiff and reach out carefully. There was something out there, something that slowly grew until she could identify it: a primal, low fear which shifted quickly into terror. Close and yet distant, the sentiment grew so rapidly it was overwhelming. Then, suddenly, something wrapped around it. Soothing, calming, and yet demanding. Single-minded, urging _._ The echo of fear disappeared as abruptly as it had come and morphed into one single, determined _goal._

"Mara," Leia said. And, when Mara did not respond: "Mara!"

 _Leia_ was the source of the strange sensation. Mara shook herself, focusing back on her, and saw that her friend had turned as white as the walls behind her and was shaking subtly. And, she realized with a jolt: it was not Leia who was the source of the strange feeling. It was something _inside_ Leia.

More precise: _someone_ inside Leia. _Two_ someones.

"I think my water just broke."

"Stang," Mara said, weakly.

"That's a way to say it." Leia smiled tremulously and then dropped her head back against the wall. "Oh kriff. And nobody's here, of course."

"Isn't it too early?" Mara asked, breathing Jedi-like through the panic that was threatening to descend. "I mean, weren't they due in twenty days?"

"Seems like they decided otherwise," Leia gasped, laughing. "Just like their father. Would you call Winter, Mara? A speeder is prepped and waiting on the roof."

"Got you," Mara said, insanely glad Leia was keeping her head. She hit her com. "Winter? Leia's going into labor."

The crisp, efficient voice of Leia's long-time aide responded almost immediately. "I'll meet you on the roof. Bring the bag that's next to the door."

"You really got everything covered," Mara joked, desperately, as she carefully helped her friend off the sofa and towards the door. Indeed, the overnight bag was packed and waiting.

Leia grabbed her wallet and purse and steadied herself on the door jamb in the corridor. "Han should be here."

"It can't be helped," Mara said, grabbing the bag and and Leia's coat and wrapping her other arm around the pregnant woman. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be," Leia said, rather philosophically, and started moving slowly. They made it to the speeder with only one more break.

* * *

"First one? That's going to take us a while. Make yourself comfortable – I know, I know. As comfortable as possible. And you, if you are not this Lady's partner I will have to ask you to leave the room."

"No! She has to stay-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Mara?"

"I'll stay here, Leia. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I'm going to kill Han."

"That's something we hear quite often," the midwife chuckled. "Breathe, love."

* * *

Fourteen hours later, the twins were born.

The midwife, humming softly, wrapped the children in respective bundles of blankets while Mara carefully helped Leia to dry off sweat and drink some water. Her friend looked worn out. Her face was flushed and her eyes were tired, her voice rough and her hair surrounded her like a halo. But in the Force, she was a beacon of warm, loving light only waiting to welcome the children home.

 _Children._

Mara felt the same stab of longing she had felt before and pushed it aside, this time more gently. The midwife stepped to the bed again, one baby in each arm as if she delivered twins every day. For all Mara knew, she probably did.

"A baby boy and a baby girl," she said. "Meet your children, Senator."

Leia's eyes were full of unshed tears as she finally held her children. She lowered her face to kiss them each, carefully. "Jacen. Jaina. Welcome to the world, my loves."

"They are beautiful," Mara whispered, reverently.

Leia laughed, tired but radiant. "You mean, they are beautiful on the inside. They look like they spent too much time in the bath."

Her friend had always managed to make her laugh. "Yes, something like that." Mara touched Jaina's tiny fist and watched, in wonder, as the girl curled her fingers around Mara's.

"Mara," Leia said.

Mara looked up at her sudden solemnity. "Yeah?"

"Han and I would like you to be Jaina's godmother."

She could not help but stare, replaying the words in her head over and over again and wondering whether she had understood what she thought she had heard just now.

"Except…" Leia's face changed from joy to worry as the silence stretched out between them. "Except if you don't want to be. We wouldn't force anything on you, ever, I promise. We just thought…"

"No," Mara said, her voice rough. "No. I'd like that. Really. I'm honored, Leia."

"Oh, good!" Leia relaxed, slightly. Her gaze was still apologetic. "Luke will be Jacen's godfather."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Just my luck." Then, she smiled at her friend. "If you really want to stop me, you have to try something else."

Leia chuckled, and Mara could not help but return her smile. It did not seem too bad, just then and there. Leia, the twins, the sensation of peace around them like a warm, familiar and comforting blanket-

Noise outside interrupted the silence, and Mara jumped. Jaina whimpered, annoyed, and Leia bent down to shush her.

"What's that?" She asked, and Mara focused and realized what she had missed for the past minutes.

"Oh, Force. I was too distracted to notice, Leia, I'm sorry."

"What?" Her friend looked up as the noise rose, drawing closer, unmistakably approaching them – until someone stormed into the room, not bothering to knock.

"Leia!"

Han Solo had never looked more spooked.

His hair was wild, his eyes haunted and his chin un-shaven, and seeing the pure look of panic in his eyes… Mara could not help it: she laughed out loud. It was just so _funny_. Han shot her one irritated glance and made a beeline for his wife's bed. Where he promptly froze, looking down on the two bundles sleeping next to her, until she snapped her fingers in front of his nose and he guiltily shot her a crooked grin and bent down to kiss her, longer than would have been proper given the fact that they had an audience.

The father of Mara's goddaughter was closely followed by Chewbacca, Luke and Master Skywalker. Mara's master cleared his throat loudly, and Han almost jumped back and then shot him a glare which caused the Jedi Master to simply shake his head and grin. Winter stood behind them, her face impassive, as if she had not just let the entire gaggle pass by her undeterred. Through the door, Mara caught a glimpse of the waiting room: Corran Horn and Mirax Terrik, Wedge Antilles and half of the Rogue squadron, Cilghal, Tionne, Callista and a couple of other Jedi were clustered in there, mixing at the edges and shifting apart again. And every single one of them seemed to be talking animatedly. The noise level was… _astounding._

The door slipped closed again, just in time to see Corran's reproachful look at Mara as the head nurse came running, her face murderous.

Master Skywalker smiled at her. "Mara. It is good to see you."

"Likewise," she said, feeling his warmth envelop her in the Force. Luke ignored her – it was what he had been doing since the events on Nirauan, and, with a tiny stab of pain, Mara realized she actually missed the easy friendship they had shared since the events on Wayland. Or something. Or the hell.

Han, in the meantime, had been given Jaina to hold, who babbled nonsensical, beautiful nonsense at her father.

"Don't hold her like that," Leia said, laughing. "You're not going to drop her."

"In fact, I think I will," her husband said, shakily. "Someone take her – _quick_ -"

Mara stepped forward to relieve him of the bundle of blankets and warm flesh that was Jaina. Jacen was asleep in Leia's arms and Han settled down at her side, gazing down at the his son in wonder. She prepared to put Jaina into the little cot at the side of the bed, but Luke intercepted the baby. Their arms touched, briefly, as she handed over the child, and she almost jumped. He did not look at her, though. Like Han's, his face held a mixture of disbelief, marvel and a protectiveness that did not bode well for any potential suitors this baby girl would have in the future. Watching him with his niece, she was hit by the certainty that he would be the kind of father every woman wanted for her children: attentive, kind, strict if necessary, but never cruel, humorous and protective. Luke Skywalker, despite his faults and his insecurities, was a kind man. To her, it had always been more important to be kind than to be great. After all, what mattered if one had the strength to save the universe if one was not able to save the ones that were important to one? But maybe, she thought, tentatively, it _was_ possible to be both. And _if_ someone would manage, it would be him. Luke Skywalker would be the hero the world wanted to see in him without losing sight of the man the ones who loved him knew him to be. He could defeat crazy clones, and dark monsters, and Sith Lords, and still be a kind and loving father, an attentive husband. If anyone _could_ manage, it would be him. He had fought through the darkness and had come out marked, but he had used his weakness to grow stronger. That was more than Mara could say of herself, after all. If she wanted to stand at his side, proudly, she would have to face her own fears and insecurities first.

Suddenly, Mara wished for nothing more than to be able to stand at Luke Skywalker's side.

Why did the thought not scare her anymore?

Maybe because they were there. Her family, not by blood but by everything else. Connected through the Force, she could feel her student-master bond with Master Skywalker, she could feel Luke, and, by extension, Leia. The twins. Even Han and Chewbacca were part of the colorful net of light woven throughout the room. Mara the orphan never had had a family: Mara Jade had more than that.

To her last day, she would remember the scene: Leia on the wide bed, with Han right next to her, a baby in her arms and one at her other side, and Master Skywalker and Luke hovering over them. So peaceful, so happy. So beautiful.

When they made to leave, Luke bent down to touch his niece and nephew's brows with his lips.

"You were born to peaceful times, beloved," he murmured. "You will live to see peaceful times."

For a second, the universe expanded around Mara, and she knew this was a promise that would be kept.


	5. Mara, Part I

**Mara, Part I**

Tatooine.

A desert planet, once again: like the Force was following patterns. Everything returned to the beginning. A circle of fate, or something like that. Not that she did believe in destiny, but being a Jedi opened one's mind. For patterns like that, if for nothing else.

Mara had never felt much love for Jakku. She had been abandoned there, she had fought for survival for years, unable to rely on anything or anyone. She had struggled for every heart-beat she had spent there; running and never stopping to catch her breath. Jakku… Jakku had been a desert planet, much like Tatooine. It was not that Mara disliked the desert; in fact, she had never minded it much. Maybe even liked it. But even the desert had merely been a place she had lived in _._ Sometimes kind, sometimes cruel, always a challenge. Not safe. Not easy. Certainly not her _home_. Jakku's desert had been a place she had longed to escape from, with every fiber of her being. Because she had always known, deep down, that her family wouldn't come for her.

 _(Except that they had, in a way, and-)_

Tatooine.

The place Skywalker had grown up in, first with his uncle and aunt, then, later, under the tutelage of Master Kenobi. The place he had lived in: a moisture farmer's house in a bland sand desert blazing under burning-red twin suns. The place where he had learned: to repair droids, to fly speeders, to scavenge whatever crops the arid countryside gave its inhabitants. The place where he had studied: the Jedi Codex, the Force. Leia had once mentioned she and Luke had always known about their father, so Mara suspected it had been clear to Luke that, one day, he would become a Jedi. Maybe he had felt like he was in exile, as well, with his sister separated from him, his father so many light-years away. Maybe he had hated the desert, the perpetual sand and the never-ending heat. Maybe he had dreamed of nothing more than leaving the desert planet behind. Maybe… But Mara was pretty sure that none of it was the case. The Luke Skywalker she knew had, not inexplicably but still somewhat surprisingly, _loved_ Tatooine. Despite having left it more than a decade ago, it still was his _home_. The hot sun and the cold nights, the endless sand dunes and the small oases were in his blood. Mara could feel it, sometimes: the deep, buried longing for the all-consuming heat and the blazing glare of the suns. The memory of the colors of the sky just short of sunrise. _Let me go back._ Maybe it was due to their – however much despised – Force bond. Maybe it was just because she hailed from a desert planet herself.

For Luke Skywalker, Tatooine was his _home._

 _(He was like the desert: everywhere, impossible to outrun. Warm, straight-forward. Brilliant even in the light of the blazing suns. Cold and arrogant when he disagreed with someone, full of hidden depths. Lethal. Threatening. Dangerous. This, Mara finally realized, was one of the reasons that had caused her to intuitively steer clear of him from the day they had first met._

 _Because the desert was beautiful, too.)_

* * *

Master Kenobi, the eldest of the remaining Jedi Masters, had called in a meeting for the entire Order. For every single member: from the few masters to the knights, and for the by-now numerous students.

A full-order meeting like that was not uncommon.

Generally, one was held every standard year, crowding all the members of the Order into one great room to discuss current events, future plans, Temple business and politics. However, something was different this time. From the moment she was notified Mara had felt a lingering sensation of uneasiness deep, deep down in her bones, like a tremor in the atmosphere surrounding her. Nobody else of her fellow Jedi seemed to notice it, though. The Great Hall's atmosphere was one of expectation and even (from the younger students) enthusiasm. Standing slightly apart from the crowd below the small dais, Mara saw all her fellow Jedi Knights and students mill through the open space. She knew almost all of the full Jedi that were present: Corran Horn was there, Solo's one-time CorSec partner who had begun his training at the Temple somewhat reluctantly. Kyle Katarn, one of her closest friends, tall and reliable and _familiar_. Tionne and Kam Solusar, inseparable both physically and mentally, as usual. Cilghal, the soft-hearted Mon Calamari healer, Kenth Hamner, all stiff and correct and determined, Kyp Durron with his usual impatience and actionism broadcasted into the Force for everyone to feel. Callista Ming, sweet and fragile, who had regained her Force abilities but seemed to prefer the presence of plants to those of human beings nowadays. However irrational, Mara did not think her instinctive dislike of the woman would ever change: there was only little respect she could spare for people who needed others to protect them. Next came the Masters. There were four of them, each one a survivor of the Galactic Civil War, each one with his own share of memories and experiences. Three stood at the edge of the dais, conversing softly. Only Master Skywalker was sitting on the ground, his legs dangling over the edge, his gaze far away. At his expression, another wave of uneasiness flowed through Mara, impossible to pin down for closer analysis. Not exactly dread, quite surely not fear. But also no trace of his usual wry humor. Perhaps… _sadness_? But why?

She was distracted when the doors of the large hall opened.

As usual, Luke Skywalker caught her attention the moment he entered the room. Despite its size, despite the many people in it and despite the buzz that would have made it easy to miss the soundless opening and closing of the surprisingly un-modern set of swinging doors. It was ridiculous, really, even after all that time: the immediate sensation of _change_ in the atmosphere once he came near. Already cursing herself for it, Mara turned to catch a glance at him. _Habit_ , she told herself. Blond hair, blue eyes – and an expression that made everything in her tense in awareness of _something._ This was not simply a meeting, and Luke knew it. The Masters knew it, as well. The echoing sound of the large set of doors falling shut silenced the crowd, almost as if on command. All eyes went to the front, where a man stepped into the center of the dais.

Even years later, Obi-Wan Kenobi still made Mara shiver in an odd mixture of respect and fear.

The Grand Master greeted the assembled Jedi with warm words. He thanked them for their work, their commitment to the New Jedi Order, reminded of how the Old Order had been destroyed from the inside and how they had to stand together, now and in the future, to not ever let it happen again. He gave a respectful pause when they remembered the children that had been murdered in the Temple as one of the first acts of treason. He reminded his listeners of the sacrifices many Jedi had made in order to preserve the Codex and to save innocent lives. He spoke of the future: how they never knew what it would be like, but that they had the duty to guard it, peacefully. He warned them. He thanked them, again. He told them what they had come to hear. And then he left, quietly, stepping from the dais and disappearing through the door. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who had trained Anakin Skywalker, who had been a decorated general in the Clone Wars, who had saved his student, best friend and brother from the Dark Side; the Jedi who had survived Order 66 and had fought the rising Empire in the Galactic Civil War and who, among few others, had established the New Jedi Order: he left the Great Hall of the Jedi Temple, powered up the drives of his ancient, lovingly kept Eta-2 Actis interceptor, obtained permission for take-off from Coruscant Orbital Control and jumped to hyperspace.

He never returned.

* * *

His death was merely a small eruption in the Force, almost impalpable.

Some, most of who had known him better, felt the sudden melancholy: one of the last Old Masters had become one with the Force. The younger Jedi, those of Mara's age, barely noticed it. And the students, for whom the old master had been just a remote figure, head of the Order, felt nothing at all. There was a quiet acceptance that filled the entire Temple: the Grand Master had found his peace. The calm, kind man had been part of the living Force for almost as long as they had known him; and he had, now, finally joined it completely. There was no reason for grief.

Mara had never known Obi-Wan Kenobi well.

And yet, his death, to her, felt like she had taken a punch to the gut. Connected to Luke Skywalker by what felt like a ridiculously stupid accident of fate, one that was more provocation than anything else, the Master's death was like a searing-hot pain in the center of her chest, burning away at her while she scrambled to hold together the shattering parts of what she was.

Or, rather: of what _Luke Skywalker_ was _._

* * *

Tatooine.

"Mara?"

His incredulity would have been funny on any other day. But now it was dulled, like a vibro blade whose source was not capable of creating a coherent, diamond-cutting-sharp laser anymore.

"Did you follow me?"

Mara had argued with herself so much already all she could do now was shrug. "Leia was worried."

He did not even scrounge up the energy to look annoyed.

She knew what he was thinking, and she loathed the fact. Reason? Excuse? Where did the one begin and the other end? She did not know anymore. He had simply left: without saying anything, without informing anyone. Without even contacting _Leia_. Mara knew Master Skywalker would have been worried, _was_ worried, of course. But he would not send anyone after his son. Luke was twenty-seven already. He was a Jedi in his own rights. He could take care of himself, make his own decisions. As long as there was no pressing matter that needed Luke Skywalker's attention, specifically, there was no need in following him to bring him back.

It was what Mara had told herself over and over for the duration of the entire trip.

Luke did not call her out on what quite clearly was nothing but an excuse. She had not, both of them knew, followed his X-wing and Force signature all the way and for many hours of hyperspace travel from Coruscant till here just because Leia was worried. He just continued to go through the pack sitting next to a speeder bike as if she was not there at all. After years of having far too much of his attention lingering on her for far too great fractions of time it would have been a relief, except that the bleakness of his thoughts, the gut-wrenching pain and the horrible lethargy filling his entire presence made her feel nauseous. Mara set her jaw, clenched her teeth. Felt the heated wind dance through a few strands of her hair that had fallen from her braid and were sticking to her cheeks. If there was something she could not stand, she thought, it was sulking cowards.

It was annoying, because he had every reason to act the way he did and she had none. And because she should not care but could not stop herself from doing it, nevertheless: because she, by all rights, was supposed to be glad he had left, and because another part of her refused to let go of him.

She stalked around the bike so he had to face her and stemmed her hands into her sides.

"So what next?"

He stared down at her – he _was_ taller, if only by so much, damn him – and did not answer.

"Where are you going?" She insisted.

"None of your business." The cold detachment in his voice was new.

Mara's eyes narrowed. "It is, if you're about to do something stupid."

"Haven't you been the one who has been telling me for the past ten or so years that what you do is none of my business?" Something like disdain had crept into his voice. Mara hated it, because it was not like him at all.

"Yeah," she snapped back, annoyed. "And you haven't budged even once. Now it's my turn."

She expected him to laugh at her. She expected him to argue. She did not expect him to simply glare at her, not saying a word. That, usually, was her strategy, and seeing it turned against her unsettled her more than she had thought it would.

"Look, Skywalker," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Master Kenobi lived a very long life. And he _decided_ to die by his own free will. I know you grieve for him. But he would not want you to do something stupid."

His glance never wavered, but the anger in his voice was frightening. "Mind your own business."

"As a matter of fact, this is _exactly_ what I'm doing right now!"

They faced off, Mara's eyes clashing with storm-grey, familiar ones. And finally, _finally_ , he sighed. It was just as well, because she had no idea what else she was supposed to say or even what to think. Her mind was curiously empty.

"Fine," he finally said, turning away abruptly. "Do whatever you want."

To her own credit, she kept a firm grip on her tongue. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

* * *

Hot sun. Endless sand. Rising, edged and cracked rock formations.

Tatooine was beautiful.

It was dangerous, too.

Mara could feel it like a siren call, a luring voice on the wind that rushed past her face and through her hair. Echoes of the desert: songs of sun-bleached days and searing heat; of icy, crystal-clear desert nights; of skies full of stars and three moons. Whispers passing by like the fragments of memories that never were made; of undreamt dreams; and, under the midday sun: heat, heat and _heat._

The screaming emptiness that coursed through their Force bond was worse than anything else she could imagine.

They crested a sand dune sometime after midday, the suns burning down relentlessly, and a glowing, red sandstone formation rose up abruptly. The massive rock formation kept growing as they sped towards it, a color like dried blood in the dust-grey of the sand surrounding them for miles and miles. Looking up against the blue sky, it was both impressive and _dangerous._ Mara did not want to know how many people had died in the shadows of the Jundland Wastes. As the twin suns began to cast the dunes' shadows across the sand, dark canyon walls loomed up in front of them. The dimness within the canyon lacked any color or warmth. Maybe, Mara thought, the shadows would offer a measure of relief from the oppressing heat. On the other hand, knowing her luck, they would just come to life to tear her and her companion apart.

A movement caught her eyes.

The beings disappeared behind outcroppings and rocks before her eyes could take them in completely. But Mara _knew_ the type of furtive movements, the second of hesitation between _it is just the two of them_ and the gut-feeling of _just walk away._

"Scavengers," she breathed. The déjà-vu was… _Unpleasant_.

"Jawas," Luke said, absent-mindedly. He had begun to shift certain items from the speeder to his pack and to the pockets of his beige, waist-long tunic. His soft boots made no noise in the sand at all. "They won't attack us if we don't show interest in them. We have nothing that would be worth it."

Uneasily, Mara reached for her own pack and went through it, making sure she had emergency rations, water skins, first-aid supplies and a spare energy cell for her blaster. Her lightsaber at her hip was a comforting weight, as was the vibro blade strapped to her lower arm and the holster at her hip. Skywalker did not spare her any glance as he finally zipped his bag and shouldered it. He ignored her completely, even when he finally set off without looking back. Mara moved to follow him, anger warring with worry deep, deep down in her guts.

The Jundland Wastes. Tatooine. She had not thought she would ever come here. And certainly not like this.

They hiked through the shadowy canyon for what felt like hours. Skywalker did not slow down or pause for her to catch up, though that was hardly necessary. He also seemed to know where he was going, or, at least, seemed to have a general basic knowledge of the terrain they were moving through. Various times, Mara caught a glance of him turning to survey their surroundings. Between the dark-red canyon walls, the air was stifling and without any movement. The sky above them seemed even farther away when standing between the towering, ancient stone walls. After following the winding paths inside the canyon for a while, Skywalker set off climbing the rock formation, following an invisible path she could not see. No sound except for Mara's own rushing blood and the cry of a bird of prey reached her ears. Stubbornly, she followed him, further and further. At one point her foot slipped and she skidded down the wall in a small shower of stones and sand; she caught herself just in time before she would have gone over an edge. Skywalker did not even turn. Clenching her jaw shut, she shook her badly-scratched hands, made sure her feet had a safe place to stand on, and continued on.

After what felt like an eternity, finally, they reached a plateau-like outcropping.

It was small, rock-strewn and lost, and ended in a massive wall. A wall that _seemed_ like a wall and _looked_ like a wall, but that did not _feel_ like a wall in her Force perception. Frowning, Mara focused her mind on it, trying to get a feeling of what it was made of and whether its Force image was tangible or somewhat see-through – and before she could even try to dispel the illusion, Skywalker marched towards the wall without hesitation and it collapsed, just like that. Forbidding herself any questions and even any words, she followed him inside.

* * *

It was not simply a cage.

It was a house, a place someone had lived in. It even had windows, blinded by sand and wind and time, but windows nevertheless. The hearth was cold and blackened. The ledge in the corner seemed to be a sleeping bunk, though without blankets and pillows. A roughly hewn stone table, two low stools. And sand, and dust, and so, so many memories.

Mara could _feel_ them saturating the air. She could not breathe.

But it was not her but Luke who turned around on the spot and left the cave again.

* * *

A day passed.

Two.

More.

They always were the same, more or less: Luke would disappear when Tattoo I and Tattoo II rose over the horizon. Mara would scarf down a ration bar and sip some of the water that gathered in the ancient water collectors that, mercifully, still were functional. Over the day, she would meditate, or train once the evening came and the strength of the suns abated somewhat. The rest of the day, she waited.

He never came.

When Luke finally crept into the cave, late at night, he sat at the fire she had lit and stared into nothingness. In the morning, she heard him leave and, for the sake of both of them, pretended to be asleep while she listened to him rummage through his pack. The soft crinkling sound of a ration bar's foil. A trickle of water as he filled up his bottle. Sometimes, he lingered. With closed eyes, Mara imagined him standing over something, or looking at something that was not there anymore. Remembering: times long past. A master and a student, living together in a small place in the Jundland Wastes. A blue-eyed boy who had lost his mother and his father and his sister and his uncle and aunt and whose last companion and family was a white-haired man with a strict voice and a kind heart.

It broke her heart for him.

What was she doing here, Mara wondered. Clearly, Luke had wanted to return to the place he and Master Kenobi had lived in so many years ago. She had no right to be there; could not share his grief. Was nothing to him but a fellow Jedi, a woman he had known for a long time and who had never warmed up to him completely. Yes, they were family, in a way: but that did not mean she had to be there, not at all. After all, neither Leia nor Master Skywalker were there. And yet she had followed Luke to Tatooine without a word, and from Mos Espa to the Wastes, and even after days of scorching sun and dry heat she still was there. He did not talk to her, did not look at her at all. Sometimes, the scarce meals she scraped together and left for him were gone the next day, and sometimes not. He had not asked her for anything, had not promised her anything – he did not even want her there. But the one thing Mara usually had relied on to know what he was thinking – however reluctantly – now was oddly, _disturbingly_ quiet. His grief simmered through their bond, hot and painful, but besides that – nothing. They could have been strangers, for all he cared, and every day he seemed more alien to her than before. Mara could only watch as he disappeared, day after day, only to return late in the evening to roll up in his corner and continue his grieving. They had not spoken since they had arrived. First, she had tried, but her attempts soon waned. For the first time in her life she was surprised at how choking silence could be. It reminded her of times when she had spoken to nobody in days, until the sound of her own voice became foreign to her own ears. She had hoped – and prayed – so many times in the past Luke Skywalker would just hold his tongue for five minutes in her presence. Now, she desperately hoped he would start talking to her again.

The days passed.

After three days, she started wishing for a shower really, really badly.

After five days, a quick inventory of her rations made her feel a light twinge of uneasiness in her guts. Mara recalled some of her earliest childhood lessons, uneasily, and pushed them aside again forcefully. Despite everything, though, she went to hunt down some womp rats. They were meagre and sinewy, but she had had worse. Also, the hunt took her mind off other things. Skywalkers, in particular.

After ten days, Mara was so bored she would have done anything to get away from the cave, the Wastes, and Tatooine in general. And she was so, so close to simply packing her stuff and leaving. But the nagging worry for Luke, a sentiment she, ironically, knew she could not outrun because she had tried for the major parts of her life, forbade her to duck out. Her master would not have wanted her to leave his son, she argued with herself. Leia and Han would not accept her surrender. Every single Jedi she knew would expect her to stand by Luke Skywalker while he was beside himself. And the worst was: Mara expected it of herself, as well. It was as if she had bound herself to him irreversibly by stupidly following him to Tatooine, more so than she ever had been bound to him since they had begun to share a Force bond. She had backed herself into a corner: there was no way out of it anymore. If there ever had been a different path for her, an alternative to being a Jedi, to being a part of the Skywalker family, however tentative; if there ever had been a future in which she could have separated herself from Luke: she had shattered that opportunity when she had followed him out into the desert.

There was no way back anymore.

During Tatooine's relentlessly hot days, the simmering air and the dancing sand seemed to laugh at her. During night, she pretended to be asleep and listened to the silence that stretched out between them like a shadow come to life.

After twelve days, she snapped.

Luke was crouched on a rock on the highest plateau of the canyons that were the Jundland Wastes. Behind him rose another, much larger stone obelisk, it was the only reason he had been able to sit up here all these days, she realized. The shadow of the rock outcropping covered the place he was crouched on _just so_.

The sight was spectacular: golden sand, red canyons. The sky reflected in his eyes.

Mara did not see any of it.

For the past few days, she had not dared to look at him, had only seen Luke in the periphery of her view. He had returned either late, so the fire light would hide his features, or not at all, and he always left so early she could not make up any excuse to be up already. That aside, she admitted to herself, she had avoided him. She did not want him to be alone, but she did not want to be alone with him, either. Now, for the first time in days, Mara Jade looked at Luke Skywalker properly. What she saw made something small and quiet inside her freeze to ice. Under his weathered, sun-tanned skin, he looked weary and gaunt. His eyes had sunk deep into his face and the corners of his lips were turned down. He had obviously lost weight. If asked, and if honest with herself, Mara would have described his eyes as sky-blue before. Now they were grey and empty, without the warmth and the over-the-top kindness, the farm boy charm and the winning smile.

Nothing in him reminded her of the man that was Luke Skywalker. Even their Force bond felt alien.

Mara just stood there and looked down at him, her mind blank.

He ignored her, and the silence that had already been oppressing before suddenly shifted into unbearable. She had to talk, or otherwise she would attack him.

"How long?" Mara demanded, finally, past the lump in her aching throat. "How long are you going to sit here and pretend the world stopped just for you?"

Luke looked at her, for the first time in almost two standard weeks, but his glance was elsewhere.

"Go away."

"No."

Placing both her hands in her hips, she stood over him in a way that blocked his sight of the Wastes.

"You are grieving your Master's loss. But you can't lose yourself in grief. You know what happens then."

"Don't pretend you know what I'm feeling."

"I don't have to pretend." Mara's hands made an exasperated gesture without her own volition. "You loved him."

He snorted. The sound was like a stab directly to her heart; left her breathless. Whatever he had been in the past, and whatever she had _not_ wanted him to be: he had never been _unkind_ to her before.

"Whom do you love, Mara? Do you ever let anyone get close enough to you to feel love for him?"

There was no answer that came to her, her mind remaining curiously blank.

He glared at her. "If you can't answer this, then don't you dare judge me."

"I'm not judging!" She felt the nails of her fingers bite into the palm of her hand. "I know what it is like to lose-"

"You _don't_ know loss," he snapped back even before she had finished her sentence. Mara recoiled like he had slapped her in the face. "You never lost anything in your life, Mara. You might have been abandoned, but you never knew your parents. That isn't loss. You grew up lucky enough to never have people in your life that are so important to you you would die for them. And you know why?"

His eyes were hard as ice. His voice had been listless before, now it was sharp and stinging.

" _Do you know why_ , _Mara_? You don't have people that are important enough for you because you don't let anyone get close to you. How long have you been in the Temple? How many of us really know you? I bet not even Leia knows you, and you've been closer to her than to anyone else. Ask them. Ask them, Mara, ask Corran and Kyle and Cilghal. You are there, but you've never really been _with_ us, have you? You never get close to anyone because you are _afraid_. You are afraid of _people_. You are terrified of being _abandoned_ once again, of being alone and helpless. So you build this wall around you, all high and mighty, thinking you can avoid being hurt by avoiding making connections altogether. _Only it does not work that way!_ "

"What about you?" She snapped back, desperate to make him stop, furious enough to not care anymore. "You run around trying to save the world, day after day, year after year, and nobody will ever thank you for it! You couldn't stop Kyp from turning to the Dark Side and killing all those innocent lives. Because of you, Callista lost her powers in the first place! And then you go and try to fix it, and it only becomes worse. You try to save each and every single person and, in the process, you help nobody at all!"

"At least I try!" His voice was so loud now Mara took a step back involuntarily. He had jumped up, they were staring at each other, coiled like springs. "Living with people and _trying_ , even if one's actions turn out to be useless, is more than you ever do!"

Pain was a human thing, Mara had learned. Pain demanded attention. She had learned to breathe through it, to make it a part of her so it required less attention and became more bearable. This… this was impossible to bear.

"At least I don't force myself on other people." She tried to control her voice, tried to make the shiver she felt deep, deep down in her bones disappear from her lips.

"What you call _forcing yourself on people_ , Mara," Luke said, cold as a desert night, "Other people think of as _being human_. And besides, what do you mean, you don't _force yourself on people?_ Whom of us was a stray who got picked up?"

His eyes were even colder. He looked at her directly – no sentiment on his face, nothing, just the ice in his gaze and in his face and in his presence – and something in Mara shattered.

"You." She pointed at him, livid. "You don't get to speak to me like that. Master Skywalker – your father – offered to take me. I did not beg, or – or – or do _anything_ to make him pity me. He never pitied me. He _gave me a chance!_ "

"He spent seven years with you rather than with Leia and me! He separated us, left us in different parts of the galaxy without as much as a word of explanation, left us with complete _strangers_ and then went off to save the galaxy!"

"He was _exiled_!"

"He could have taken us with him! Apparently it was possible to do all the world-saving with you tagging along, but not with us!" He was advancing on her slowly, his emotions assaulting hers as much as the anger in his voice. "Not with _me_!"

"He _loved_ you!" Mara shouted back, refusing to budge. "He didn't want to take you somewhere you'd be in danger!"

And then, suddenly, completely irrationally, it was not about them anymore. It was about Mara's master and Luke's father and his feelings and hers, and about every decision that had been made since they had first met in the Hall of Fountains in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Or, maybe earlier.

"You know why he took me in? Because he thought of _you_! Of you and Leia! Every day, every hour! He looked at me and saw what you could have become, had he not trusted Master Kenobi enough to tell him about Palpatine, and he did not want you to end that way! What do you think would have happened if that crazy man had managed to kill _every single Jedi_? If your father hadn't found out about Palpatine's other student and fought him? They would all have died! And you and Leia would have been killed had Sidious known about you, or you would have grown up somewhere in the gutters, living from day to day, stealing and scavenging in order to stay alive! You have no idea how it is to live like that, and you won't ever, so stop pretending you know me! Master Skywalker may have made some wrong decisions in his life, but when it came to it he did what was _right_! And-"

He interrupted her, moving forward one last step, and at the look in his eyes Mara instinctively did what she had never done before in his presence: she backed up a step. He did not seem to notice. "So you say I am not allowed to judge you, but you do the same? Master Kenobi-"

And they were back at the beginning again, or at the end, perhaps, with his fiery anger seamlessly segueing back into bottomless grief. Mara felt pain flood their connection and felt herself reaching out to him, almost blindly. Luke Skywalker always had been an open door in the past, welcoming and cheerful despite her stubborn refusal and continuous rebuttals. Now, when he felt her probing, he slammed shut the mental door almost violently.

Mara stood there, her eyes stinging. The hurt at his simple action – even though driven by their earlier anger and accusations, and his grief – broke over her like a storm tide. She suddenly was torn between the desire to tear into him until he bled on the one side and to curl up weeping on the other side. While a third part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him.

She felt so stupid, so incredibly idiotic. He had never said a single impolite word to her, no matter how far she had pushed him. Now he was full of grief and pain, and his words had been unkind, fuelled by rage and sadness. And Mara could not help but react the way she always did: stingy, stubborn and resentful. Had she not already resolved to be better than that? Apparently, it had been to no avail.

She _deserved_ what he had thrown at her.

It was nothing but the truth. In consequence, the sense of betrayal she felt was unwarranted: completely irrational. She had no right – no right at all! – to wallow in the misery she had spread herself. She could not blame him for speaking out in his grief, speaking out the truth, no matter how harsh. She could not fault him for his anger, and his unchecked words, when she knew he did not mean most of them.

But there was a grain of truth in every story, a true heart to everything.

Mara left him slumped in the shadow of the stone obelisk and went back to the cave to fetch her pack. She could not stay for even one more hour.

Luke did not stop her.


	6. Mara, Part II

_A/N: I usually prefer to give these notes at the end of a chapter, but then, I think the /end of a story/ should just stand there, unmolested by notes and such (merely my opinion!). So just a quick comment: we've already reached the last chapter. How fast time passes! I started this story on the grounds of a silly idea - while I should have been working on another SW fic. And I completely fell in love with the result. I'm usually careful with only even reading Mara/Luke AUs, but there you go. *hides in a corner*_

 _Okay._

 _So, the last scene of this chapter is the one reason why I started this entire mess, and the line quoted in the title the second. I can't read the poem anymore without thinking of Mara and Luke. I guess I'm weird like that._

 _It's summer, and it has been rainy and cold for the past weeks. My country is going crazy over soccer (not that I should be the one to complain). This story helped me through a lot already and probably will continue to do so. Your reviews did the rest. Thank you to all the readers out there! I hope you enjoyed the journey, too. Maybe we'll meet again._

* * *

 **Mara, Part II**

Tatooine.

The desert was beautiful, but it was lethal, as well.

Fact.

As Mara made her way down the steep canyon pathway towards the dunes glowing red and golden in the early-evening light of the twin suns, she focused all her thinking on facts. She did not have many provisions left, and without the vaporizer system from Master Kenobi's old hut she would run out of water quickly. She had the clothes she was wearing, the heavy, stifling cloak against the cold at night and against the sun during day, and her small pack with spare power cells for her blaster, a few basic first aid supplies, some ration bars, a data pad and her com. She was perhaps eleven hours – by foot – away from Mos Espa, where they had landed two weeks ago. _Mos Espa._ Han had once called it the cesspit of the known galaxy, but he hadn't known Niima Outpost. Briefly, her thoughts lingered on the approximate percentage of petty crimes that were committed there daily, and which probably fell away when compared to the major ones.

No matter how many major crime lords had their headquarters in and around Mos Espa, however, she still would have to get back there before she could _finally_ leave the Force-forsaken planet and never return.

If Mara had been granted just one wish, right now, that second, she would have wished to never have to see Luke Skywalker again. She needed a break. She needed to put distance between herself and this man who could upset her with nothing but a glance, whose words could hurt her worse than anything she could imagine. She needed time to think, to remind herself that this was not her: this weak, angry person that was running from a confrontation just now was not the strong, independent woman that had grown from the abandoned child an exiled Jedi had picked up on a backwater desert planet. She needed to stop wanting, even for the split second it had happened, to reach out to the broken man in front of her and–

She grabbed the thought viciously and shoved it into the farthest corner of her mind.

 _Focus, Jade._

She needed to get back to Mos Espa.

It was not a walk she could not take but one she did not want to make by night. Already, the heat of the day was dissipating quickly. It would have been logical to journey by night. But nights in the desert did not belong to the human species. Mara knew so very, very well.

She ignored the shiver that ran down her spine.

The most rational decision, of course, would have been to return to the cave and to stay there. There was water there, and shelter. She could leave in the early morning, when the sun had not yet heated up the air. She could have taken the _speeder_ back, Sithspawn. But returning would have meant facing Luke Skywalker. And, irrational as it was, she could not bear to see him anymore. His grief still flowed through their bond, thick like syrup, and mingled with the memory of her scathing words. Mara's anger was a living thing. It raged and screamed and turned on her. She knew it was grief speaking with his voice but his words, nevertheless, had _hurt_. And Mara Jade was not used to pain inflicted by mere _words_. Such pain was weakness, it was an excuse not to act, and the fact that she felt like curling up in the darkness and not returning no matter what had her feeling sick of herself. That was Skywalker for you: he made her dislike herself more than anything.

But she could not ignore the bone-shattering sorrow she felt over their Force bond.

Angrily, she closed herself off – not that it had worked in the past – and drew up her mental wall even higher. She did not want anything to do with him. She did not want to have to look at him and feel fondness well up inside her. She did not want to see his smile and think it was actually quite handsome. She did not want to excuse his harsh words with his grief, and she did not want him to feel any obligation towards her just because she was the way she was. Thorny, prickly. Unfinished. _Jealous_ , she reminded herself. _Envious._ Luke Skywalker had followed her like a shadow from the moment they had met. Could she not, for once time in her life, be free of his ghost?

She could go back, or forward. In Mara's life, there had only ever been one answer to this kind of question.

But she would not go anywhere tonight.

Tatooine's twin suns blazed up one last time, in a breathtaking display of vibrant colors, and sank behind the horizon. Two of the three moons were half-way visible already. A gust of wind carried dust over the quickly darkening plain.

She found shelter at the foot of the canyon; an almost cave-like structure protected from the wind by a jutted rock and closed off by the canyon walls in two of four directions. The stone was still warm to the touch. Mara cleared away a few rocks and some debris and spread out her bedroll, and then she sat, numbly, and tried not to think. The landscape was a silver veil in front of her, the dim light allowing no distinguishing between directions and distances. Sorely missing her depth perception, Mara nestled into her small nest and tugged her heavy cloak over herself. Carefully, she stretched out her Force perception all around her, willing herself to take in everything – every sign of life, every movement, every predator – by its Force signature. She knew pretty well that not even a 360 degree danger sense could substitute for appropriately manned guard shifts held by people who had slept for twelve hours before, but this was what she had, so she had to make do.

She closed her eyes and settled down to wait for dawn, keeping her mind wide open.

* * *

 _Help!_

A sensation of _ohnoohnopleasehelphelpplease_ blasted through Mara's senses. It felt as if mere minutes had passed since she had closed her eyes. It must have been longer, though, because she was shivering violently. There was a golden line of light on the horizon.

React.

Reflexes trained on herself since she could remember made her lie still, unmoving. At the same time, she expanded her Force perception until the limits of what she could do. The desert around her was not quiet: the rustling of wind mixed with the shifting sands. She could not feel any presence next to her except for a few sleepy womp rats a bit off her course. Expanding her senses further, _further_ , she finally caught a flare of _something_ : wild, untamed. Strangely sleepy, or simply passive? Her danger sense yelled, voicelessly.

And then Mara heard the scream.

She was on her feet before she could think, tearing up and down the dune and towards the sound. A Jawa was cowering at the edge of something that looked like a sinkhole. The sand at its edges was rough, crusted and dirty-looking. The Jawa was making guttural noises, Mara could not make out whether it was actually talking, calling down something to another being at the bottom of the hole, or whether it was just screaming. From the panic and sheer terror the being broadcasted into the Force, however, she would have pegged it as the second one any day.

Also, the fear she felt was oddly doubled.

She skidded to halt next to the being, glanced down and almost recoiled in disgust. The … _thing_ – there was no appropriate description for the monster sitting at the bottom of the sinkhole – seemed to consist of a hellhole of a maw with deadly, pointedly serrated edges and more tentacle arms than she cared to count. From the part of her mind that was not focused on the situation directly in front of her, she could feel Luke probing their Force bond, alarmed by _her_ alarm, his worry increasing until it blasted through her defenses. Mara did not even bother erecting the wall again, just focused on the situation in front of her: the Jawa at her side, still screaming, moaning, yelling – and the trashing heap of greyish cloth and flesh that was slowly but surely being dragged towards the huge opening with its chainsaw jaws. Reaching out into the Force with every ounce of power she could muster, Mara grabbed the victim by the collar of its cloak and _held._ In the same heartbeat, she went for her weapons.

She tried her blaster first.

The flash and hiss of the discharge was so familiar she barely felt the recoil. A burnt patch appeared on the arm that was dragging at the terrified Jawa and it twitched, trashed, but did not let go. The victim screamed as the tentacle grasped its prey more tightly, its terror a blinding beacon in her mind. Clenching her teeth, Mara fired another shot, placing it as close as possible to the first burn she had inflicted. The sound that came from the direction of the maw was sickening, but it worked. However, as the one arm let go, two others sneaked up to compensate.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Three shots in quick succession, three hits. Three smoldering stains, and another growl deep from the center of the creature. It did not sound hurt. Merely… _pissed._

Mara pumped her blaster charge into the creature, first aiming for the arms, then for the main body. The latter, however, seemed to merely reflect her fire and she quickly redirected. _Move_ , she screamed at the terrified Jawa mentally, not sure whether the command would reach it or not. Thanks to everything that was the Force, the being in the pit below was scrambling free of the remaining arm that was still grasping for it and was trying to get out of reach of the thing. But other tentacles were closing on, slow, as would have been logical for a beast of its size, and yet dangerously fast. She boosted him up, focusing all her mind on it while her hands reached for her lightsaber blindly and stood. Extending a hand, she tried to stop the other tentacles – it was like reaching for something through a thick coat of guck. The _thing_ withstood, fought her grip and slipped from it. And it had _so many arms._ She felt the first trickle of sweat run down the side of her face as she desperately tried to divide her attention between keeping the victim from sliding further down into the pit and, at the same time, the tentacle arms of reaching it, and then…

The other Jawa at Mara's side, gabbling, extended a hand and grabbed its friend, heaving it over the edge of the pit with one last drag.

"What are you waiting for? Run!" She barked at them, and they, with a high-pitched sound that sounded like a whistle, stumbled away.

Leaving Mara with a host of tentacled arms slowly rising from the sand hole, now decidedly annoyed by the _thing_ that had dared to deprive it of their meal.

 _Skywalker._

No time, no time. Half a dozen arms came at her. Her lightsaber activated with the _snap-hiss_ she had known for almost her entire life. She sliced through the first arm with a sickening sizzle of cauterizing meat and the other arms froze, stunned. Mara could almost see the monster reconsider the trouble of attacking the thing in front of it. _Still want a bite of me, ugly?_

The arms slashed down.

 _Uh-oh._

Maybe she should not have tried to bait it – but there was no time left for idle thoughts. Mara jumped over an arm that slashed at her legs and briefly wondered – how could it see? – then took off another one of the slippery, _stinky_ arms. Retching from the odor of the burnt meat, she threw her body into a back flip and very closely avoided another arm. This one had a thorn at the end, as thick as her wrist at its base, lethally pointed at the tip. She sliced it off and it spewed green, watery liquid everywhere, some of which splattered onto her cloak. She had no time to shrug it off, but it did not burn and smoke. _No acid, then._ Of course, that left the other option–

 _Duck._

Mara reacted on instinct, threw herself to the ground and rolled. At the precise point where she had been standing mere seconds ago, a tentacle slammed into the ground with bruising force.

 _Do take your time._

Her violet blade sliced through the arm and, for the first time, Mara got a view of what she was fighting against. The greyish-green, leathery skin was oozing a disgusting, sticky secret – probably protection against the sun – and stank horribly. The arm had a number of suckers attached to it, large as a child's hands. And, if this was not enough, the tip of the tentacles was complimented by the vicious-looking spike she already had had the pleasure of getting to know. _Well, that's just marvelous._ The ugly thing trashed around for a heartbeat, until it slowed and stilled. Mara did not wait but catapulted herself backward again, barely avoiding two other arms.

 _How many arms does this thing have, dammit?_

 _You don't want to know._

Mara cursed. She ought to get away from–

 _Get away from the pit!_

 _Stop distracting me!_

A tactical retreat was the only reasonable choice. The _thing_ could not leave its hole, and its tentacles were only so long. No matter how many she hacked off, it probably regrew those things again. Aside from that, it probably was able to move them not only over but also _through_ the sand–

The pain was sharp and quick, and she had _not seen it coming_.

"MARA!"

Luke slammed into her from behind, a warm, solid weight that catapulted her three foot to the right, pressed her into the sand and covered her from the next attack. Any other time she would have been annoyed, but the sudden, fiery burn in her lower leg was radiating along the entire limb and spreading out like liquid fire. From her position and past Luke's arms she glimpsed a smaller tentacle that stuck out of the sand, its poisonous spike dripping. Not wasting any time, he jumped up again, dragging her up with him. Through their Force bond she felt worry and something close to panic, and did the only thing she could think of: putting the pain out of her mind, she grabbed his hand and ran. Something burst from the ground behind them in a shower of sand that hit her back in clumps and caught in her hair, then, Luke stumbled and cursed, almost losing his footing.

 _Luke!_

His light saber hissed and something fell to the ground heavily behind them. Not daring to look back, Mara dragged him further, feeling the tunnel focus of their combined battle modes meld into an astounding 360 degree view of their surroundings. She could feel him, right behind her – but at the same time, she _was_ him. It was a strange experience, one that left her breathless and added to the already desperate hacking that was her breath. She pushed it aside and ran, dodging another sand-rising spike, swinging her blade around on their left while Luke covered their right side, the two of them working in complete and utter synchronization.

She could not push aside the knowledge that he had been stung, as well.

* * *

They did not make it back to Master Kenobi's cave.

The twin suns already were strong, the chill of the night completely erased, when they dove back into the shadowy canyons of the Jundland Wastes. The red rock formation rose up against the spotless blue sky like threatening guardians.

The Force was quiet, almost as if numbed from the earlier fight. Through their Force bond, Mara could feel Luke's stunned worry, his alarm, the last vestiges of battle-euphoria. Everything else felt strangely hazy, as if someone had placed her in a Bacta tank. The edges of the craggy canyon blurred. She could feel herself, unsteady, their run had deteriorated to a walk and then to a stumble. It was a fight to even put one foot in front of the other now. Her brain was hazy, taking in information but not processing it. The only thing she could think of was what she had felt from him, clear as a day, when he had come to help her: he was not angry with her anymore.

Which was good, because–

The pain caught up with her, violent and burning. Mara collapsed where she stood, soundlessly.

"Mara–"

Luke caught her when the fire that was leaking along every single nerve of her body also assaulted him. They both dropped onto the rapidly heating desert sand in an unceremonious heap.

"Oh, stang." His voice was breathless. Through their Force bond, she could feel his pain: it was a mirror of her own agony. The knowledge did not serve to soothe her burning limbs, rather doubled it with the twin perspective of their Force bond. Her entire body _ached_. At least, she thought, dimly, they had made it back to her nightly shelter: the rough material of her cloak was welcome and familiar under her cheek.

And Luke was _laughing._

Mara had to clear her throat three times before she could speak. "Have you _lost your mind?_ "

"Sarlacc," he said, breathless and yet annoyingly cheerful, and _how the hell and why, they were being roasted alive and he was joking?!_ "Just my kind of luck."

"Blast you," Mara breathed, trying to see and pressing her eyes shut as the sunlight assaulted her optical nerves. " _What is this, Skywalker?"_

"Sarlacc poison. Extremely painful. Hopefully, we are too big for the dose to be lethal."

"No kidding." Her deadpan would have been less venomous, had she not been shivering with the pain rolling over her in waves.

"Well, better than-" He stopped, heaved a breath. Since they were somehow entangled, she could feel his voice somewhere close to her ear, but she could not make out what her limbs were and what his. _Everything_ was on fire. "Better than being swallowed and digested. _Alive_. For decades."

Mara did not care what gruesome fate they had just escaped. "Make it _stop_."

She felt him concentrating through the haze of bleeding red mist and could not even spare the usual second of embarrassment at her complete inability to use healing techniques. Another wave rocked through her – _him_ – them. It was impossible to distinguish between Luke's and her feelings, too, now that the pain was tearing down every single wall she had ever erected between them. _Oh, Force._ Just when she was about to panic, the soothing trickle of a healing trance closed in on her, promising blissful oblivion…

…And dispersed again, calling forth another round of agony instead.

She could feel Luke give up. He felt even more wrung-out than seconds before. The attempt to put her into a trance must have cost him more than he could spare right now. Mara, suddenly and despite the pain, was glad he had stopped. He probably would have tried until he bled himself empty, just to help her, because that was just the way he was.

Stupid, so stupid.

"Sorry."

"Shut up."

His voice was winded, as was hers, but she felt the spark of amusement. "No way to neutralize the poison. But if we increase our body temperature slightly it might be processed more quickly. We'd still have to sit it out, though."

"Just increase our body heat?" she asked, then gasped for air at another wave of pain and hated herself for her weakness. "You're aware that will happen naturally if we don't move away from here."

"Well, that's the only thing I can think of now."

Minutes trickled by.

The pain did not lessen, even increased. Radiated through her entire body. Hollowed her out completely. Like going through withdrawal, Mara thought. Only that she was not addicted.

"Sithspawn."

"At least the two Jawas are safe. You did well."

"Don't go all high-and-mighty on me, Skywalker."

"I am hurt, Mara. Would I ever?" He sounded cheerful. _Too_ cheerful. Absolutely _not_ warranted in their current situation, and she would have kicked him except she had no idea whether she would ever be able to lift her leg.

"I swear, if you don't stop _right now_ …"

"Well, what are you going to do–" His voice crumbled as he was rocked by a wave of pain, as well.

Despite the fact that it burned along their Force bond and scorched her, too, it was oddly satisfying.

* * *

"Are you alright, Mara?"

It was hot. Mara was burning, inside and out, and she did not want to imagine the sunburn she was about to get. Luke sounded like he was clenching his jaws as tightly as she was.

"Don't pretend you don't know," she pressed out, letting the nails of her fingers bite into her palms and still not feeling it. Slowly, fury was building up, now that she had nothing to do but to endure. Having him interfere on her behalf again and again and _again_ was not only frustrating: it angered her to hell and back.

"You're right." He managed a weak laugh, which segued into something… painful. For the two of them equally, strangely, only that nothing did surprise her anymore when it came to them. "Mara… I need to apologize."

The verbal lashing she had just wanted to release fell flat. "Oh."

From the corner of her eyes she could see him, so close and yet so far away.

"I shouldn't have said what I said," he continued. "And I wasn't right, either. I was angry at the universe, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

Simple as that. How should she have known that she would be able to forgive him anything once he apologized? Maybe it was the poison in her veins, or the one in his, but Mara could not find her anger anymore. It was gone, just like that.

"I'm sorry, too."

"Excuse me?"

Ah. Yes, maybe she did have some anger left. "You heard me the first time, Skywalker."

He chuckled again, a laugh that turned into a groan when another wave of pain overwhelmed them both. Mara bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. It was so bad that, when something touched her hand, she blindly gripped the object and held on for her dear life.

"Damn, Jade!" The fact that he actually cursed merely emphasized how bad it was what they had gotten themselves into.

Mara tried to loosen her grip as the wave of pain abated somewhat.

"You know, had I known that I just had to get bitten by a Sarlacc in order to get you to hold my hand I'd have done it- _Ouch_!"

"Shut up, Skywalker."

Strangely, the pain became endurable after that.

* * *

The conversation, more than anything, was what pulled her through the next hours, as Tattoo I and II rose over the Dune Sea.

That, and the two Jawas returning, chittering, and building a small makeshift sun sail over them. When she tried to thank them, they just hurried off again, leaving no trace of their presence except for a few sturdy poles and a rough-spun cloth that shielded them from the sun.

It made it better, marginally.

* * *

"Leia's going to kill me."

"Serves you right."

"Why is it you do stupid stuff, too, but she never threatens to kill you?"

"It's a sisters-thing."

Woefully: "I thought it was something like that."

* * *

"Do you really not blame him?"

"Whom?"

"You know. Your father."

"Ah."

"So?" She prompted.

"Well." He thought of it, really thought. She knew it, felt it. Loved him for it.

"I guess – no. I was angry with him, as a child. But he always was there. We just had to reach out. Family Force bond, that stuff."

"Because he loves you, you know. You and Leia. More than anything. He wouldn't have left if he didn't have to. Please don't hate him."

"Why should hate him? Because he almost fell for the tricks of a man he considered his political mentor and friend, some decades ago? Because he had to watch, helplessly, as his friends and fellow students were slaughtered, and then almost lost his wife, and, finally, was exiled from the Core for seven years?"

"And went and picked up a stray scavenger."

"I never thought about you that way, Mara."

"Who spent more time with him than you ever were allowed to."

"Mara…"

"Who was taught by him. Who had everything you should have had. Because that was me, Luke. He took me in, he cared for me. He taught me to read and to write, everything I know today is thanks to him. He gave me presents on my birthday. Kriff, he _gave_ me a birthday. He held me when I had nightmares. He scolded me when I was reckless. He worried for me when I was sick. He was the father I never had, when he was your father but never had the chance to really be. It's impossible for you not to mind this – that you and Leia never thought of me as an impostor. Tell me you never felt the slightest bit of resentment for him, or for me. Because it's only natural. To hate me, I mean."

She was rambling. Mara bit her tongue, her heart slamming against her ribcage too quickly. Painfully.

Luke did not say a word.

"If you have to hate someone, hate me," she whispered, finally, when the silence became too much to bear. "Don't hate him. He loves you and Leia so much."

"Look at me, Mara."

She kept her eyes averted, too scared to do as he told her.

"Mara. _Look at me._ "

There was no way than to follow his voice, the softness and the command in it unmistakable. She lifted her head, met the ice-blue eyes that were so, so familiar. He was not smiling.

"I did hate you, at the beginning."

Mara felt her whole body tremble and forced herself to be still as a statue.

"But I was a child, then. Mara, believe me: neither I nor Leia thought that way about you in a long, long time. You are a part of our family. There is nothing you can do to change that."

There was more. Things he did not say, things he did not voice: things he felt, and thought. His emotions were so clear in the Force bond between them she wanted to weep. His love for her – crystal-clear, rock-solid and unshakable – shone from his eyes and from his heart. There was no place in him that she was not, no part of him that did not love her.

Surrendering, she closed her eyes, her whole body crying out for him.

* * *

Hours passed.

"Did you know your name has an equivalent in the secret dialect of Tatooine's slaves?"

There was more to his voice, more to the feeling of him through their bond. Slowly, the pain was abating, the waves coming in longer intervals. It had given them some opportunity to rearrange themselves. They did not have much space in the shadow of the small makeshift tent, but they made do.

Mara analyzed his feelings, and found what was bothering her.

"Who?" She asked, quietly.

"Dad. And Grandmother." And, at her silent, helpless grief: "You didn't know."

"No."

"Well, Dad got away early, thanks to Master Kenobi and his Master. He never told you about it?"

"He never talked about his past. The past before the Jedi, at least."

Luke shifted, lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were blue again, not the icy grey they had been while he had grieved.

"If he didn't, he meant to protect." _You. Him. Us._ It danced through the silence between them.

Mara changed the topic, her heart beating too fast again. "How do you know about a secret dialect if it's secret?"

"I lived here, remember?"

"And that's enough to be initiated into a secret society?"

"Well…"

"Never mind, Skywalker. What does it mean?" Unable to hold herself upright, she fell against him, too tired and too much in pain to care about anything.

"Huh?" Luke blinked, momentarily distracted as the weight of her head settled against his shoulder.

"My _name_. What does it mean?"

"Oh. Well, actually…"

"Force, quit stalling!"

"The one who loves the land."

"Huh."

He was warm.

He was warm, and Mara was so damn tired. She wanted to scoot closer, press against him – bury herself in his flesh and his bones and in his heart. Every millimeter of space between them was too much. Leaning against him, she slowly felt herself drift off into an exhausted sleep. It was, she supposed, a sign that the poison was slowly fading from her – their – systems.

* * *

Tattoo I and II were disappearing behind the horizon and the ground was considerably cooler than before when she woke up again.

Her body was a mass of pounding, exhausted cells, and she was tired despite her few hours of sleep. But she was _alive._ And so was Luke, still breathing next to her. When she lifted her heavy head carefully, his hair brushed her face.

"Good morning," he said. He still looked exhausted, and terribly pale. The strain from the past days was showing in his hollow face and his dark eyes. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"It's not morning," she said, instantly, feeling her tongue thick and swollen in her mouth.

Sensing it, he handed her the water bottle that had been in her pack. Mara drank, greedily. And only remembered she was not alone when she had emptied the bottle halfway through.

"You too." Still aching for water, she shoved it at Luke.

"I had my share," he said, and pointed at something next to him.

"Ah." She had brought two bottles, she remembered. And a water skin, one of the only things she had learned on Jakku which she had brought with her. At least they did not have to worry about that.

"We still should get back," Luke said, instantly, reading her and destroying her thin cocoon of security. "It's not safe at night."

Had they been at their full power, Mara reckoned, two grown Jedi did not need to fear any of Tatooine's nocturnal predators. But now, weak and drained as they were, she rather not wanted to take the risk. _Besides,_ a tiny voice in her mind said, _you were two facing off the Sarlacc, and you ended up poisoned._

"Think we'll manage the ascent?"

Luke thought about that, weighted the options. "Between us, we can probably do it. Now that it's not burning hot anymore."

They did, indeed, manage, but it took more strength and raw determination than either of them had expected it to. At the small cave, finally, she collapsed in a heap in front of the entrance. Luke, luckily, still had enough presence of mind to stagger inside and grab a few blankets. Mara closed her eyes and felt him drop down next to her, placing the blankets around them. Against the coolness of night, he was a comfortable source of warmth.

"You should drink something." Something else fell into her lap. "And eat."

"Not my babysitter, Skywalker," she said without opening her eyes and felt him smile.

"That's not the sting I'm used to hear."

"Bite me."

He laughed, rich despite their exhaustion, and handed her the bottle. Mara drank, handed it back.

The sky was a black piece of silk with a myriad of stars. Two of the three moons were visible, both in different stages of fullness. The silence of the night was a song born from the whisper of the wind, the rustling sand and the cry of some hunter or other in the distance, and Luke's warm, steady presence right next to her.

"Chernini and Guermessa," Luke murmured. It woke her again, a bit.

Mara was not an expert in Tatooine's night sky, or astronomy in general, but she figured Luke Skywalker would be.

He shrugged, sensing her thoughts. "Not much to do on a desert planet."

"I come from one, too," Mara pointed out.

"Point taken. What did you do at night?"

"Sleep."

"Figured." He chuckled. It annoyed her, but not in a bad way.

"I did look at the sky often," she confessed, quietly. "I used to wish…" She stopped, caught in her own memory. A child, lonely, lost. A huge canopy of darkness, and, all around her: the desert like a sea, stretching in all directions.

"What?" Luke asked, equally softly. "What did you wish for, Mara?"

"For someone to find me."

She was tired enough that the embarrassment felt distant and unimportant. "For my family to come back and take me with them. For someone, no matter whom, to call out to me." She lifted her head, looked at him. "I am so glad your father found me. I may not seem grateful, most of the days. But believe me, I am."

His eyes, silver in the darkness, regarded her, unflinching. "I am, too," he said.

Nothing else.

* * *

The suns rose, glory doubled.

Mara woke with the sunrise, still weak and quite hungry, but very much alive. Extricating herself from Luke's embrace – she was not sure whether she wanted to get even closer to him, or to kick his ass for wrapping around her like that, or just accept it as means to conserve warmth – she carefully tested her arms and legs. She was alright, just so. This, she mused, could have ended worse. Much, much worse.

Luke woke with a start, feeling for her immediately, and the sight of his sleep-mussed hair touched her oddly. She could not help but smile.

"Now, _this_ is an appropriate time for a good morning, Skywalker."

He groaned. "The suns aren't even completely up."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to leave this place today."

That woke him up. Mara saw the sadness, the regret, the loss – it flashed over his face in the early morning light, reflected in their Force bond. But she also felt a new sense of determination. She could not help herself: she smiled.

Watching her, he did not say anything until she met his eyes again. Something in them-

Mara shivered, and turned away.

"You staying?"

"No," Luke said, softly. "I'm coming with you."

They had a quick breakfast of ration bars and the last of a bag of dried nuts and berries Mara had hidden away for emergencies. The silence was comfortable, now, something she never had experienced before. She started when she glanced at him various times and found Luke's eyes fixed on her in return, each time. Silent laughter ran through their Force bond, and… Mara quickly buried the thought.

Together, they tidied up the place. She could not help but notice how carefully Luke touched every single object, how he kept some things in his hands longer than necessary: as if to burn every single thing into his memory. The grief for Master Kenobi was there but it was softer now, rounder. Not the sharp, cutting-edged, painful thing it had been before. It matched hers.

Which was a dangerous thought.

And then, finally, they were set to go.

* * *

The journey across the Dune Sea took them little time only on the speeder. Earlier than Mara had suspected Mos Espa came into view, small, cowered little housing habitats that grew out of the golden sand, windswept and dust-covered, stubborn to the last. There was only one passenger shuttle scheduled to leave the space port that day. It took Luke twenty minutes of haggling to get them onto it, and even then the pilot only folded because Mara flashed him a smile and a wad of credits. Luke was still chuckling when they left the port in search for a more substantial meal.

"Spit it out, Skywalker," Mara said when they were out of earshot.

He shot her a careless grin, one she would have associated more with Han Solo than with Luke Skywalker. "If you were trying to seduce him, Mara…"

"I _wasn't_!" She spluttered. "I was merely trying to be nice-"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, because I think that smile would have scared a Hutt."

She jabbed her elbow into his side and was gratified to hear him squeak somewhat unmanly.

"Solo rubbed off on you."

"I learn from the best."

"Oh, Force save us."

They had a few hours to spare until take-off. Mara, initially, had wanted to curl up somewhere and get another few hours of sleep. She did not need to look at Luke, however, to feel his melancholy. So she straightened her shoulders.

"Let's go somewhere."

" _Somewhere_?" He echoed.

"Yeah." And, in a burst of something she could not define: "Is there a place looking out over the Dune Sea?"

"A tourist point?" Luke's brows rose high enough to disappear in his hairline. "For sightseeing?"

"Yes, Skywalker," she snapped. "Is there?"

Of course, there was.

* * *

She found a spot on the wall of the low building that allowed her to glance over the desert stretching out in front of Mos Espa, until the horizon.

 _The Dune Sea._

Mara could not deny that she was tired – weary, exhausted, and more than a little bit grimy. She could not wait to be back on the _Sabre_ , to be able to take a long, steaming shower. To eat something else than ration bars and dried meat. But as little as she could forget who she was, as little could she forget where she came from.

Mara had always, always, always loved the desert.

"Now," Luke suddenly said, his voice slicing through her thoughts and giving her a thrill, "you owe _me_."

Mara turned around to look at him. He sat on the wall next to her but was not looking at her: his gaze was lost in the desert, as hers had been a heartbeat before. He looked as grimy as Mara felt. His hair was unwashed and fell into his eyes, the strands a bit too long to be tidy, his cloak was dust-grey and there was dirt under his nails and a smudge of it on his face. Their exhaustion had dulled the Force-bond between them, which was good because she was tired of keeping her walls – or, what was left of them – upright. His usual smile was playing around the corners of his lips – _farm boy_ – but there was an edge of sadness to it, now. He looked… He looked older.

He looked like Luke.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I have no idea why, but fine: I owe you one."

"Really?" His hesitant question set off something within her she had not expected. Mara turned around almost abruptly and found herself face to face with him. Force, she had not realized he was _so close._ Suddenly, all her senses seemed heightened. She could hear the vulnerability in his voice, see it in the way his eyes were wide and blue-grey and unblinking. It was as if he had taken years of insecurities, hidden away behind jokes and laughter and relentless teasing, and had plastered them right onto his features. The naked emotion in his eyes was staggering, overwhelmed her, and, for the first time since she could remember, Mara did not feel any fear. Instead, the only thing she felt was a raw, bone-deep fondness.

"I said it, Skywalker, didn't I?" Her voice was softer than she had intended it to be. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Something grew in his eyes: hope, fear, reluctance. Desperation. As if he could not believe that those simple words had worked, when everything else in the universe had failed. Suddenly, Mara became aware of the fact that they had left safe ground – how, why, and did it really matter at all? – and had stumbled onto unknown territory.

"You know what I'm going to ask."

She knew. And she did not. She shook her head, mute. Luke's presence in her consciousness expanded until it filled her entire mind and heart, and that was it. In the space of seconds, years of silent yearning exploded within her. His gaze burned into her, lit her up, and she wanted nothing more than for him to touch her. This was crazy, completely irrational. But it was Luke Skywalker, the man she had known for more than a decade, and who never had let himself be deterred by crazy and irrational.

"Okay." He took a deep breath, as it to steel himself for her inevitable refusal. "Marry me, Mara Jade."

Mara could not help herself: her hand found his, opened it, held it. He was trembling, minutely, and this tiny sign of his own insecurity strengthened her. Carefully, she laid his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes. Her body relaxed into it with an inaudible sound of relief, as if her entire being was sighing: _finally._ She could not believe it had been that easy, that _obvious._ It should have been impossible.

"Wouldn't it be more logical to ask me out on a single date, first?"

Luke froze completely, stopped breathing. Even his heart seemed to have halted. At the same time, something lit up within him. Mara could feel it through their bond, through the stupid, unnecessary, annoying link they had shared for five years and which she had hated every hour of it. Every second, even. Now, sensing him filled her with warmth, his disbelief that was slowly turning to deep, unbridled joy striking a note deep, deep within her and making her hum in resonance. Mara felt herself react to his joy without her own volition, but she was not afraid.

Not anymore.

"I… I… You…"

Luke seemed at a complete loss of words, which was… sweet. Mara realized she was turning into a sap with alarming speed, but there was no other way to describe his completely dumbfounded expression. To have reduced the smooth Luke Skywalker to a speechless wreck was a victory that tasted all the sweeter since _she_ had been the reason.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again to look at her. His gaze made her shiver.

"I love you. More than anything."

Mara could not help it. She inched forward, her tiredness forgotten, and hugged him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and felt his arms go around her automatically. She would have expected him to be the more passionate one, instead, she was the one clinging to him with a strength that surprised herself. Pressing her face into the crook of his neck, Mara closed her eyes.

"I know," she whispered. _I know._

With her acceptance, every wall she had ever built between them shattered into a myriad of tiny pieces.

Suddenly, he was _there_ : not only in flesh, right next to her, but _within_ her. It was no longer merely his diffuse presence in her mind, either, which she could feel through their bond. It was Luke, utterly and completely, with all his strengths and insecurities, beliefs and ideals. He was right _there_ , in front of her. No: a _part_ of her. At the same time, she could feel him take her in completely. In the past, she would have tried to conceal pieces of herself: her propensity to brood, her sometimes impatient, hurtful reactions, the shame at her own shortcomings. There was no time now, and besides, she did not care the least. Luke knew her. He _loved_ her. There was nothing she could show him that would make him recoil and change his mind.

 _Mara._

She needed a while until she realized he was whispering her name in the Force. A shiver ran through her.

 _Luke_.

As an answer, he held her even tighter.

They stayed like that until Luke finally drew back. Instead of staying still and letting her simply _look_ at him, however, something he had to know she had wanted to do for an eternity now, he started searching his pockets for his datapad.

"What are you doing?" Mara asked, amused and annoyed in equal parts.

Luke had found the device and started typing. His smile was blinding. "Programming my personal calendar. _Anniversary. March Twelfth."_

Mara could not help herself: she punched him.

 _Hard_.

With a wordless sound of protest, Luke collapsed back onto the wall. "What was that for?"

Mara glowered at him. "We'll have to do something about that cockiness, Skywalker."

He laughed, his head thrown back, and reached out to draw her back towards him. Mara felt something deep within her take off like a bird soaring into the sky.

"Well, our kids probably will go around telling off strangers, so a certain level of cockiness will just help them."

And then, again, the vulnerable look in his eyes was back. "Of course, only if…"

There might have been a tiny voice left within Mara that was screaming _too fast, too much._ But if there was, she could not hear it. The only thing that mattered was he, Luke, right in front of her.

So close, so _close_ –

His lips tasted like salt and sand and warmth. _Welcome home,_ the Force bond whispered, and she fell into it. Felt Luke welcoming her. And, for the first time in her life, Mara Jade felt _complete_.

The Dune Sea stretched out underneath them; golden, wide and endless.

 _for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)  
it's always ourselves we find in the sea._

 _e.e. cummings_


End file.
